


What You Love

by ForLove



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (happens before story begins), (ocd related not graphic), Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Artist Castiel, Collage, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Minor Character Death, OCD, Self-Harm, Teacher Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-12 13:04:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5667058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForLove/pseuds/ForLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean reluctantly goes to a college party, but has a change of heart when he encounters a captivating art student.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Paint it Black

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting on my computer for quite awhile. It's something I needed to write, but second guessed A LOT due to my own depression and ocd. I hope you enjoy it. The story is completed and I'll post one chapter a week (unless I get really excited and start posting more).
> 
> Oh, every chapter is named for a Rolling Stones song.
> 
> The story began because I read a post on tumblr, but it's taken a big turn since then.  
> [This is the post that gave me the idea.](http://ghoulstiel.tumblr.com/post/109830666028/universityau-where-castiels-friends-get-him/)

"Come on Dean, it'll be good for you." Jo huffs.

"What's the problem, Dean?" Sam smirks as Jo pulls Dean by the arm up to the second floor of the Art department. Dance music seeps through the crowd gathering at the top step.

Dean laments that it’s past his bedtime, "It's fine for you freshmen to go, but I'm a senior. I've got papers to write, lesson plans to- plan." It wasn't the word Dean was looking for but it'll do. 

"The Beaux Arts Ball is a tradition!" Jo exclaims over the dance music, "One you've never taken part of and we can't have you graduate without going at least once."

"I agree." Waiting for the doors to open, Sam nudges him as the crowd outside the central studio gathers. "You gotta take some time to relax once in awhile."

Dean rolls his eyes but nods in agreement. He tells himself he'll go for just a little while, then get back to work. His fifth graders' math papers aren't going to grade themselves.

"Um, are we supposed to have masks?" Dean asks nervously as he sees a group of people in black and white masks, like something from Mardi Gras.

Sam shrugs, "I heard lots of people make their own, but there's supposed to be some here too."

"Greaaattttt." Dean is not pleased at having to dress up. If he had known he'd have to wear a mask he would have definitely stayed home.

When the doors open, the crowd filters into the cleared out studio. It's decorated in black and white. Everything is monochromatic, even people's clothing. Dean finds it odd that art students would take all of the color out of decorations, but he'll admit it's interesting to look at. The studio-turned ballroom has a black and white checkered floor, which makes Dean think he has the wrong outfit on. He really shouldn't be wearing his white Rolling Stones shirt with black jeans, but should be decked out as a knight. He smiles at the thought of everyone dressed as chess pieces. (At least Jo didn’t talk him into wearing those hideous white pants.)

Across the room Dean spies a young man he's noticed working in the campus bookstore. The guy is about his height, dressed in all black, with slightly longer and messier hair. Dean’s mind wanders as he daydreams about running his fingers though the guy’s gorgeous hair. Swallowing nervously when he realizes he's been staring Dean averts his eyes, but not quickly enough. The guy notices him and winks, then takes a flask out of his back pocket and quickly takes a sip.

"Welcome!" The guy speaks into a microphone as someone turns down the music, "Those of you who don't have masks, one will be provided to you. Please keep the mask on for the duration of our gathering. May your time here at the Beaux Arts Ball be salacious!" He sets the mic down as his helper turns up the music. The guy then takes another drink from his flask and picks up a stack of simple masks.

While he moves around the room handing them out, Dean feels safe watching his movements again. The guy’s wearing all black, and if it weren't for the moving spotlights, he'd disappear. Dean sucks in his gut as he looks at the guy's skinny jeans. How do people fit into those anyway? His tall boots glimmer occasionally as he moves in Dean's direction. Before Dean realizes it, the guy is standing directly in front of him, handing Dean a mask.

"Here you go, Jumpin' Jack Flash." A glint in his eye makes Dean's throat tighten.

As he takes the mask, Dean notices that the man's t-shirt isn't solid black. There's a slightly shiny _Star Trek_ insignia on the left side of his chest. But before Dean can say anything, the guy has moved on.

Jo bounces over wearing a checkered half mask. "You gotta put it on, Dean." 

Dean grumbles and looks down at the mask before putting it on. It's covered in a black line drawing of feathers with a white background, probably drawn with a Sharpie. The mask feels like it’s cut out from a thick paper plate. Dean lightly touches the lines, tracing the sketchy contours and admiring the hand that made them. After placing the mask over his face, Dean scans the room for the guy and is disappointed in his search.

"Where's Sam?" Dean raises his voice over the beat so Jo can hear him.

"Oh, he found some of his friends from Lit. I think they're over there." Jo points toward a mass of people by the a tall wooden table littered with snacks. Like the rest of the room, it's almost impossible to tell one person from the other- unless you know the mask they're wearing.

Dean tries to pick Sam out of the group. He'll be the tallest, of course. He spots Sam, the only giant in black and white plaid, but decides not to invade. The group is laughing as Sam wildly gestures with his arms. The last thing Sam needs is his big brother pestering him. Dean turns to Jo only to find her being lead into the dance space by a masked figure who clearly made their mask beforehand.

Dean slumps against the wall. He promised he'd stay for a while, but he wonders if Jo or Sam would notice if he slipped out now. Debating on what to do, Dean starts edging toward the open double doors. He reasons that he's still technically at the party even if he's near the exit.

A gravelly voice startles Dean. "Not leaving are you?" 

"Can't say I wasn't thinking about it."

"That would be a pity," the guy answers, leaning against the wall next to Dean. "Unless it's just to go change your shirt, then come back."

Scowling Dean turns to him and again notices the _Star Trek_ insignia. "What's wrong with my shirt?"

"Oh, nothing generally. I love the Stones. They were my first concert. But there's red on Mick's mouth there." He runs a finger down Dean's chest.

Dean's breath halts until the finger is removed. "Well, I guess I better go then." Dean smiles but doesn't back away.

"I think I’ve got a solution." The guy holds out a hand and gives Dean's shirt a tug. "Turn it inside out."

"You serious?"

"We have a dress code here."

"Well, let me excuse myself." Dean grins and heads toward the exit, testing to see what the guy will do.

"I'll show you to the restroom." He puts a hand on Dean's shoulder, guiding him out the door and staying close.

The guy stays outside in the hallway and once Dean’s alone in the stall he can’t stop grinning. He turns his shirt inside out and exits, then splashes a little water on his face. He's grateful the guy led him to the restroom instead of insisting he strip in the ballroom. Sure, no one would care, but there are a lot of people and Dean doesn't feel quite confident enough for that. 

He knows he doesn’t have to, there’s no reason for it, but out of nervousness Dean washes his hands. At the same time he’s angry at himself. He’s been doing to so well. His hands have lost the red hue they had only a week ago, but here he is, giving into one of his nervous habits. Taking a steadying breath before leaving, Dean worries he’s taken too long and the guy has gotten bored and left.

Dean steps out into the small hallway and is face to face with the guy talking on his cell phone. "And why would you be telling me this now?" He takes the mask off and looks at Dean apologetically. The guy pinches the bridge of his nose while ending the conversation. "Fine. Yep. Fine." His monotone voice saddens Dean. "Look I gotta go." He ends the call and slips the phone in his back pocket.

From his front pocket, he takes a small pillbox out and swallows a tablet. He produces a flask from his back pocket and takes a swig. When he looks at Dean again, his pupils are blown. Dean notices a striking rim of blue around the black. They stare at each other for a moment, not uncomfortably. He offers the flask to Dean, but Dean gently shakes his head declining the offer. The guy replaces it in his pocket.

"Having your _19th Nervous Breakdown_?" Dean jokes.

The guy forlornly smiles but huffs a little laugh. "You could say that."

"Are you stoned?" 

"Generally. Yes." The guy grins, looking more relaxed but cheerless.

Dean shivers, he’d rather not get tangled up with another stoner, but there's something about this guy that makes him stay.

"Cold?" The guy moves into Dean's personal space.

"A bit." Dean's mouth goes dry. "I- I've got another shirt in the car, I'll just run out and get it." Dean can’t tell if he feels naked because of the lack of a second layer or if it’s the way the guy is looking at him.

"I better come with. I wouldn't want you leaving." He lightly runs a hand down Dean's arm, stopping at his hand, just hovering there waiting.

Dean turns to walk and takes a hold of his hand at the same time, his heart beating overtime.

"So what's your favorite _Star Trek_ movie?" Dean questions as they exit the Art building.

"Five. I mean everyone loves Four, but I can still remember watching Five for the first time with my sister."

Dean smiles, "And I was sure you were going to say _Into Darkness_."

The guy grins, "Sure the reboots are great, but I doubt I'd love them as much if it weren't for the originals."

As they step outside, Dean shivers in the autumn air. The Impala is parked behind the building inches away from the wall. When Dean drove here he used the fact that there _are_ still empty faculty spaces as evidence that no one in his year will be at the party. Now he’s grateful for the solitude.

The guy whistles. "She's beautiful. What year?"

"Thanks. I think so.” Dean drops the guy’s hand in order to rummage around in the car. “67. She was my dad's; we used to work on her together." He pulls out a long sleeve black shirt and slips it on.

"Not anymore?"

"He passed away." Dean shuts the car door and shyly holds his hand out for the guy to take.

"I'm sorry." The guy’s voice is hardly above a whisper as he threads their fingers together.

Dean shrugs. "Thanks. But, uh, I didn't come out here to talk about my dad." He smirks thinking he should have just put the shirt on to begin with. But then, Dean reasons, he wouldn't be out here now with this guy.

Dean steps closer to him. The guy releases Dean’s hand and slowly wraps his arms around Dean's waist. Their noses almost touch, breath ghosts over each other's lips. He stays still, as if waiting. Dean takes that as his cue and closes the distance between their mouths.

Heat flares in Dean's stomach as their hands slowly explore one another’s bodies. The guy sucks on his lower lip. Dean encourages him with little groans of satisfaction. He backs the guy into the wall as their hunger grows and they gasp for air. The guy props one leg on the front bumper of Dean's car, allowing Dean to slide in closer. Normally he’d be irritated with someone putting a shoe on his baby, but right now he doesn't care. In fact, he appreciates it. The guy slides his hands between Dean’s shirts and grips the back of the t-shirt as Dean cups the side of his face. Dean's fingers glide up, tangling in the dark hair; a happy moan is his reward. The other hand stays at the man's waist, feeling muscles move under his shirt. Music from the ball is a constant thrum in the background as their lips frantically move from lips to neck and back.

The thumping beat from the second floor dims as an annoyed voice announces, "Five minutes until the mask contest. Five minutes."

"Fuck." The guy tears their lips apart. "I have to go," he whispers, leaning his forehead against Dean's. He closes his eyes as their mouths touch once more, though this time sweetly. "To be continued?" he mumbles against Dean's lips.

Dean nods and is left with a cold chest where his companion once occupied. After taking another drink from the flask, the guy disappears inside.

"What the hell am I doing?" Bracing himself against the wall, Dean breathes. This is not what he thinks the behavior of a future elementary school teacher should be, he hoped he got it all out last year.

Dean makes his way back to the party to find Jo and Sam in the foyer.

"Dude, where have you been?" Sam looks confused as Dean slowly climbs the stairs.

"Got another shirt, I was cold." Dean worries the tingling in his lips is as visible as it feels.

"Uh, huh." Sam sounds unconvinced but keeps talking, "So, we've been invited over to Victor's for an after party, uh, party."

"Yeah?" Dean smirks; he knows what's coming.

"Yeah, can you give us a ride?" Sam swings his mask around one finger.

"Sure thing." Over the microphone, he hears the guy announce the mask contest and pauses. "Uh, do either of you have a pen?"

"Yeah." Jo pulls one out of her clutch and hands it to Dean.

Dean scribbles his number on his mask. "Hold on a second." He runs up the rest of the staircase but stops when he hears the guy’s voice again.

"Will the owner of the ‘67 Chevy Impala please fuck me?"

Jo and Sam just heard that. For a moment he rethinks going back in but then remembers the guy's lips on his. "Screw it." Dean strides through the studio doors, walks directly up to the guy and hands him the mask. Then, just as quickly, he turns around and exits before he can regret it.


	2. Waiting on a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean hears from the art student and they meet-up in the daylight for coffee.

Dean sleeps until seven. It's a record. Usually it's hard to get himself to sleep past six. He eagerly checks his phone to see if “Kahn,” has texted. He knows it's too early but Dean can hope, and he does.

After rolling out of bed, Dean makes pancakes for the house. Sam won't be up for another few hours, but Dean keeps some warm in the oven. Jo is in the kitchen as soon as she smells the batter sizzling.

"So, any word?" Jo asks, filling a mug with coffee.

While washing the mixing bowl, Dean acts like he has no idea what she's talking about. Obviously taking the hint, she changes the subject.

"My parents are going to come out for Thanksgiving. How do you feel about hosting here?"

Dean huffs a laugh as he transfers some pancakes onto a plate for her. "It's not like I have a choice; it _is_ their house we live in." He smiles warmly, "But, I'd be happy to cook for ya'll."

"Oh, I think my mom'll want to cook. But you'll be allowed to do the pies," Jo mouths through a forkful.

"Deal." Dean grins while turning off the burner.

An hour later, as he’s looking over lesson plans, his phone beeps. A thrill of excitement runs through him as he reaches for the phone, but guilt replaces the excitement when he sees that it's a text from Ellen. Normally he'd be happy to hear from Jo's mom.

_Ellen: The kid told me we're all on board for Thanksgiving._

_Dean: yep. sounds good. we'll have the extra bedroom all made up for you and Bobby._

_Ellen: This time leave the good mints on our pillows will ya? :)_

Dean can never thank Ellen and Bobby enough for letting him and Sam stay in their second house, or more importantly for being surrogate parents. When Dean left for college he was on his own and he was able to scrape together enough with a part-time job, student loans and scholarships. Then when Jo and Sam decided to go to the same state school (instate tuition is a plus), Bobby and Ellen decided to buy a second home. They were happy that their "kids" were only an hour away. Having a houseful of people to cook for has made Dean happier than when he was alone in the studio just getting by. He feels lucky to have his family close.

As soon as he sets his phone down, it dings again. Assuming it's from Ellen, Dean starts to formulate a question about what kind of pies she'd prefer. His heart leaps when he sees that it's from a number not stored in his phone.

_Hello, Dean. This is Castiel. I gave you the mask you wrote your number on. I'd very much like to apologize for my behavior at the microphone. I completely understand if you don’t want to take this any further._

Castiel. Interesting name. He sits for a little while with this thumbs hovering over the keyboard. Dean is grateful Castiel didn't apologize for following him out to the car. That memory has been on a loop inside of his head since it happened. At a loss for what to say, Dean decides to go on a walk. He knows the direction he'll head in but doesn’t want to admit it. Grabbing a thick flannel to guard against the autumn air, Dean waves to Sam, who's finishing off the pancakes.

 

**

 

Dean sees Castiel though the large plate-glass window on the outside of the University Center bookstore. He stands on the sidewalk for a moment playing with his phone, deciding if he should go in. When Dean reminds himself that he's a university student― he could just be looking for class― he strides up to the door and enters. Castiel looks peaceful leaning against a bookshelf as he thumbs through art history books. Dean feels guilty for disturbing him. 

"Castiel?" His voice comes out weaker than he'd like. "Uh, look, man, you don't have to apologize."

Castiel's outfit is strikingly different than last night's. He's wearing a light blue button-down shirt, Dockers, and brown dress shoes. He doesn't look like a stoner, and his eyes are clear, which makes Dean relax. When Castiel puts a hand over his face in embarrassment, Dean sees part of a feather tattoo sticking out of his rolled up sleeve. 

"I― I felt it was necessary," Castiel mumbles.

Dean grins. "It was kinda flattering actually." He tries to soothe the guy, "Hey, it's okay."

Castiel lowers his hand. "I was such a mess last night,” Castiel whispers. He looks away.

"Then let's start over." Dean offers Castiel his hand. "Hi, I'm Dean Winchester."

"Castiel Milton." A tiny smile forms as Castiel takes Dean's hand.

"Cas, can I call you Cas?" Dean smirks, betting he knows the answer. When Castiel nods, Dean continues, "Do you wanna get off? I mean― sorry. What time do you get off?" Embarrassed, he freezes, but the smile Cas gives him is worth it. "Do you want to get coffee later?" Dean rephrases.

"It would give me great pleasure."

"Cassie!" a posh British voice whines while moving closer. "Can you put out the new paintbrushes? You know how I hate― oh!" A dirty blond stops and stares at Dean for a second. "You must be Mr. Impala." The man gives Dean a lewd smile.

Cas shoots his co-worker an annoyed glance then turns back to Dean. "I'll see you in an hour? The café on the other side of the atrium?"

Dean nods with a small smile. “Awesome.”

As he exits the bookstore, Dean hears Cas’s annoyed voice in the distance.

“Balthazar, I told you that in confidence. Dean. His real name is Dean.” 

 

**

 

Outside of the café, Dean calls Charlie and unloads.

“Yeah, but haven't you ever acted differently at a party?" Charlie reasons. "People aren’t just one thing, Dean. I wouldn’t worry about it."

Dean adjusts in the uncomfortable plastic chair, "Charlie, it was like meeting a different guy."

"So are you saying you're not attracted to him in the daylight?"

"No, quite the opposite. It’s just..." Dean clenches a fist in nervousness.

"Hush, Winchester. Go meet your dream Trekkie."

Dean heaves a relaxed sigh. "Thanks, Charlie."

"Anytime. Go have fun."

As he waits, Dean wonders if last night Cas had been today’s Cas, would he still be interested? Erase the best make-out session ever, and the answer is still yes. The guy seems sweet and he’s freaking adorable.

Dean's heart leaps when he sees Cas coming down the stairs from the bookstore. Cas smiles warmly when he spots Dean across the atrium and walks over.

"Did you get the paintbrushes sorted?" Dean asks once Cas is close enough to hear.

Cas rolls his eyes and huffs a laugh. "Yes. Balthazar isn't helpless, just lazy." He shrugs. "But he's a good friend."

“Shall we?” Dean nods toward the coffee shop’s door.

Inside, Dean listens to Cas order. He gets an herbal tea. Dean gets a black coffee, then adds a drop of cream and a packet of sugar before they exit. Cas directs Dean to a small table near the middle of the University Center. The building is large and the middle is taken over by a huge planter. A tree extends to the second floor, making Dean feel like he’s outside. He loves it in the UC; even in the middle of winter it’s warm and green with a babbling stream that runs the length of the building.

Taking his spot at the table, Dean begins. “So you’re an art major?” 

“Yes.” Cas sounds apologetic as he sets his phone down next to his tea and sits across from Dean.

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic.”

Cas shrugs, looking down at his phone. “My family tolerates it because I’m supposed to work for my mother after college.” He makes eye contact with Dean and holds it.

“Doing what?” Dean prompts.

“Filing papers for her PR Firm.” Cas’s face crumples.

“Sounds, uh, fun.” 

“It sounds hellish.”

“But you love making art.”

“Yes,” Cas smiles fondly.

“Well, you gotta do what you love. At some point anyway.” Dean takes a sip of his coffee watching Cas grip his tea cup tightly.

“Easier for some I guess.” Cas seems far off for a moment. “You’re an education major?” He returns his gaze to Dean. “I’ve helped you at the cash register before. Textbooks.” He blushes a little at the confession and his eyes flick down for a second.

“Yeah.” Dean grins. “I got student teaching next semester then I’m done. In an observation class this semester, but that’s really a bad name for it. It’s more like mini-student teaching. I take over a subject for a little while, teach a lesson, grade papers, observe others teach lessons― stuff like that. So it’s just not me teaching all day like it will be.”

Cas doesn’t break eye contact as Dean talks, but a smile in Cas’s eyes makes Dean lose his concentration.

“Sorry man, you don’t have to listen to me ramble on about this.”

“I like to. You’re very passionate about teaching.”

“I’m sure you’re just as passionate about art.”

Cas grins. “Before I made a fool of myself yesterday―” He’s interrupted by a phone call. His shoulders slump while looking down at his phone.

Dean notices the same forlorn expression on Cas as last night by the bathroom. He silences the phone and looks back to Dean, but the grin doesn’t return.

“Family,” Cas breathes.

“Do you need me to go?” Watching Cas’s phone light up Dean starts to slide out of his seat.

“I’d rather you didn’t.” Cas looks down at the phone again.

“So, uh, you think people coulda handled it if Kahn and Kirk made out in the last movie?”

Cas’s shoulders move in a silent laugh. He looks up. “Kahn was a badass and no doubt that impressed Kirk. But everyone knows Kirk is already taken.” Cas’s smile gently returns.

“Yeah, Spock woulda been jealous I guess. Too bad _they_ didn’t get to make-out.” Dean chuckles.

“But they did.” Cas holds up his hand.

Dean swallows and mirrors Cas’s hand as they lock eyes. Cas lightly slides his fingers down Dean’s palm, then matches the pads of their fingers together. Dean licks his lips as his eyes flick down to Cas’s mouth.

Dean finishes by making their palms flush. “I suppose there’s something to Vulcan romance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you're enjoying the fic. Nine more chapters to go!
> 
> \------
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://4lov3.tumblr.com/)


	3. Time Is On My Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas have a heart to heart in the ceramics studio then (while sober) Cas comes home to meet Sam and Jo.

“So when do I get to meet him Dean?” Sam asks looking up from his books when Dean comes home late. Again.

“Soon. Soon. Just taking it slow.” Dean gets an apple out of the fridge and takes a big bite.

Sam looks at him disbelievingly. “When you’re not at school you’re at _coffee_ with him.” Sam stresses the word coffee like he doesn’t believe that’s what’s really happening.

“You’re right Sam, you caught me.” Dean makes a show of hanging his head, “We haven’t been having coffee. Cas, Cas like herbal tea.” He looks up at his brother and laughs.

“You’re such a jerk.”

“Bitch.” Dean takes another bite of his apple. Out of the side of his mouth he continues, “You’re just whiny because you’ve had to make your own dinner.” Dean smirks when he sees Sam’s exaggerated frown. 

“It’s been over a month.”

“Yeah, but you met him already.”

“I saw him drunk at a party. I’d like to see,” Sam’s pause squelches Dean’s lightheartedness, “I’d like to see what he’s really like.”

Dean feels guilty, Cas isn’t anything like that the last guy. Instead of trying to soothe his brother his words come out sounding annoyed. “Fine, fine. What if he comes over tomorrow. Better?”

Sam nods, “Yes.”

 

**

 

Dean waits for Cas with a his tea (honey and a dash of cream). Still moving incrementally, they mostly make-out like Vulcans while talking. Dean loves it when Cas shows him drawings from his sketchbook.

“That’s awesome!” Dean grins at Cas and his sketch of a tree.

“It’s a scribble.” Cas shakes his head disbelievingly.

“Dude, I’m one of those teachers that can’t even draw a stick figure. Take the complement.” Dean places a warm hand over Cas’s. “Is it the tree in the atrium?”

Cas shrugs, “It might be. We sit in here enough.”

Dean’s eyes follow the smooth lines that sculpt the tree on Cas’s paper. Thick and thin lines define edges of the bark and leaves giving depth to the flat piece of paper. It is definitely not a scribble.

Dean hasn’t seen Cas take any pills since the party, and he hasn’t brought it up. Willingly forgetting it ever happened. 

“So my brother really wants to meet you, officially.” Dean clears his throat, “You free to come over for dinner tonight? I think he’s just miffed he’s had to fend for himself in the way of food.”

“Of course. I don’t want to be the cause of a rift in your family.” Cas is concerned and shifts in his seat.

“Hey, it’s okay Cas. Sam just really wants to meet you...” Dean’s voice trails off.

“When I’m not drunk.”

Dean nods. It’s dangerously close to the subject he’s been trying to avoid.

Cas nods. “Should I bring anything?”

“I’m cooking,” Dean shrugs, “Whatdya want?”

“Can you make cornbread?” Cas’s eyes light up.

“Of course.” Dean proudly smiles.

“I’ll bring some honey. Anything else?”

“Let me think about it.” Dean squeezes Cas’s shoulder.

“When do we need to go over to your place? Do we have time to go by the ceramics studio?”

“Yeah, we got a coupla hours until I’ll need to start cooking.” Dean wiggles his eyebrows only half joking, “Whatdya want to do until then?”

Cas laughs. Their attraction to one another is palpable even if they haven’t done anything but hold hands since the first night.

“I need to make some clay.”

“Make clay? I thought that was basically dirt.”

“It is. But it’s kind of like a recipe of dirt, dirt dust really.”

“Alright. Lead the way Rodin.” Dean stands up and holds out a hand.

Cas laughs.

 

**

 

The ceramics studio is practically empty. There’s one person checking on a sculpture that’s under plastic when they walk in, but she leaves a few minutes later. Taking Dean’s coat, Cas lays their jackets on a work table. Dean tries not to look like he’s checking to see if the table is dirty, but he is. Dean is distracted from the table when Cas rolls up his sleeves revealing the whole feather on his right forearm. He has wanted to ask Cas about the tat since he first saw a piece of it in the bookstore. Dean figures Cas will tell him when he’s ready, but that doesn’t stop him from wishing to know right now. Trying not to stare at the lone feather takes a lot of energy. The lines remind Dean of the ones drawn on his mask from the Beaux Arts Ball.

“This is what we want the clay to feel like.” Cas takes a lump of wet porcelain out of a bucket and hands it to Dean.

Dean sweats. He doesn’t want to take the sticky piece of clay, but he doesn’t want Cas to _know_ he doesn’t want to touch the slimy dirt. Dean swallows and hesitantly extends his hand.

“Soft huh?” Cas smiles. He clearly loves ceramics. “That’s what I use to make most of my dishes. I sculpt with this.” The second clay Cas holds up is darker and has specks of sand scattered through it. It’s not smooth like the one Dean holds.

Dean smiles, but wishes he could wash his hands. He focuses on breathing until Cas takes the tiny lump of clay and plops it back into the nearby bucket. He follows Cas to a small room where they put on respirators. Cas explains the clay formula as he pours in water and different powders into the industrial dough mixer, but Dean is transfixed by the feather on Cas’s arm. Behind his own mask Dean feels distant and struggles to stay within the moment. He only gets that there’s a recipe Cas is following and they’re going to check it in a few minutes.

“I only need to get it started.” Cas says while closing the gigantic lid. “Balthazar is going to come by later and see if more water or something needs to be added.” Cas notices Dean looking at the tattoo. Embarrassed, Dean changes his gaze to the large barrel where they just poured the ingredients. The tiny room is filled with an ear shattering mechanical noise when Cas presses the start button. Then, he leads Dean out of the room and shuts the door.

In the ceramics studio the machine’s noise is muffled but is still noticeable. It’s like a large washing machine hidden behind a door.

“Those are heavy.” Dean says when pulling off his mask. 

“Yeah, but you don’t want to breathe that much clay dust.” Cas hangs the masks on a hook and takes a seat at the tall table. 

Still wishing he could wash his hands, Dean joins Cas but not before looking to make sure the stool is clear of wet clay or glaze.

“I love the smell in here.” Cas sighs with a smile.

“Yeah, dirt.”

Cas smirks, “It’s relaxing.” Staring down at his arm, Cas puts a hand over his tattoo and takes a breath. “I got it after my sister died.”

Dean freezes.

“She used to call me Angel. It was great to hear, particularly after my parents did their best to believe the worst about me.” He takes a breath, “So I like having it here. Reminds me to not always believe what my parents say. Even if it doesn’t work, I like having a piece of her around.” Cas sucks in a breath, like he’s trying to get the nerve up to say something. “The night we met, the Beaux Arts Ball, it was the second anniversary of her death. I just couldn't face going back home.”

Dean waits for Cas to look up then pulls down the collar of his t-shirt so the tattoo just above his heart is visible. “I got the sun when my mom died. Pestered Bobby for a year until he took me. It was just a ring of flames then.” 

“How old were you?” Cas asks gently.

“Sixteen by the time I finally got the tat.” Dean shrugs, “There were a lot of pluses to being abandoned by my father.” He pauses lost in thought, “When my dad finally drank himself to death I added the moon inside. More for the man I remember than the drunk he became.” Dean fights to hold back tears. 

Cas stretches his arm out and lightly touches Dean’s exposed tattoo. “I’m sorry Dean.” Cas’s voice is barely audible as he lowers his arm.

Dean’s sad smile breaks into an embarrassed laugh and he wipes a hand over his face. “It really sucked. But we have Bobby and Ellen.”

“Jo’s parents?”

“Yeah, well technically Bobby is her step-dad, but yeah. He took Sam and me in when our dad left and when he got married to Ellen, she just added us to her family.” Dean pauses, “I’m really sorry about your sister. You musta-”

Before Dean can finish, Cas slides off the stool and wraps his arms around Dean’s neck. They silently breathe, gripping the other for comfort. Dean smiles to himself, realizing he doesn’t feel the need to wash his hands anymore.

An alarm in Cas’s pocket rings. “I have to go check the clay,” he whispers into Dean’s ear. “You okay?”

Dean nods and feels a soft kiss on his neck. Cas takes a step away still holding Dean’s eyes. Instead of turning to talk away Cas reaches for Dean while Dean pulls on Cas’s shirt. They clumsily crash together meeting with breath and teeth until Cas’s alarm sounds again.

 

**

 

“So he’s really coming over, Dean?” Sam is skeptical when Dean arrives at the house alone.

“Yeah Sam, he just went back to his place to pick up a few things. He’ll be here soon.” Dean tries to look annoyed at his brother, but he can’t hide the grin that’s been plastered across his face since the kiss.

“Victor says I need to get him photographic evidence.” Sam follows Dean into the kitchen.

“Of course he does.” Dean grumbles under his breath while taking out cornbread ingredients. They get along, but Victor can make Dean feel inadequate just with a question. By asking for a photo, Victor’s commenting that he doesn’t think Cas would actually be with Dean, at least not while he’s sober. Victor was around for Cas’s drunken confession over the microphone.

Sam settles into studying at the kitchen table as Dean prepares bread and chili. Conversation lulls as each one is focused on their own task. Dean washes his hands one more time than necessary as they wait and he’s grateful for Sam’s silence on the subject. By the time Cas knocks on the front door, the house is filled with a warm scent of chili. Dean’s heart leaps in excitement and terror that this meeting is happening. He desperately wants Cas and his family to get along.

Before Dean can get to the door, Jo bounces out of her room and answers it. “Hey, come on in.” She greets.

“Hi Cas,” Dean wipes his hands on a towel as he strides through the living room.

“Sorry I took so long. My mother called.” Cas breaks eye contact with Dean.

Jo silently exits. A moment later Dean hears her whirlwind in the kitchen, bugging Sam about getting a haircut. While tossing the towel over his shoulder, Dean’s eyes never leave Cas.

He encircles Cas in his arms whispering, “You okay?”

A bag Cas was carrying makes a soft plonk to the ground and Dean feels hands grip the back of his shirt. “She’s just very good at reminding me of how selfish I am.” His brittle voice is barely audible.

Dean takes a steadying breath, he’s about to do something very good or make a very big mistake. “I think you’re fantastic, Angel.”

Cas’s grip flinches tighter at the nickname, making Dean worry he’s screwed up monumentally. But then his grip relaxes, and Cas breathes “Thank you.”

When Dean and Cas join Jo and Sam in the kitchen, Jo and Sam are deep in debate about _Firefly_.

“All I’m saying is that if the show had been allowed to go on longer it wouldn’t have been considered a science-fiction favorite. They woulda screwed it up somehow.” Sam protests.

“No way!” Jo argues, “Strong female leads, humor, Nathan Fillion. That show had it all.”

“You sound like Charlie,” Dean smirks. “But I am inclined to agree with Jo. Sam, the writing was awesome on _Firefly_.”

“What’s _Firefly_?” Cas questions a stunned kitchen.

“Dude, you’ve seen every incarnation of _Star Trek_ , _Battlestar Galactica_ and _Doctor Who_ , but you’ve never watched _Firefly_?” Dean is flabbergasted. “Man we gotta fix that.”

“Bless Netflix,” Jo laughs.

“So, uh, you up for a marathon?” Sam asks Cas.

Dean dishes out bowls of chili while Cas cuts the cornbread. It’s a fair bit to balance, but in the name of science, well science-fiction, the foursome eat in front of the tv. Jo doles out the silverware and napkins, while Sam pours glasses of the Dr. Pepper that Cas brought. Once seated they pass around the bottle of honey Cas originally went home to get.

“Local honey?” Jo reads the label, “That’s cool Cas.”

Dean and Cas opt to spread out on the floor, leaning up against the couch and each other. Jo steals a spot on the couch that’s not blocked by their backs, and Sam is happy in the oversized chair. Though Dean teases that when Sam sits there it’s just a chair.

Only part way into the first episode, Cas’s phone dings with a text. Dean feels his body stiffen and slides a hand over. Cas threads their fingers together while reading the text.

“I hate Thanksgiving anyway.” Cas whispers to himself.

“Dude what?” Dean leans in to read the text. While still looking at the words in disbelief, Dean directs his voice to Jo. “You think your parents would mind if we added one more to Thanksgiving?”

“Who? Cas?” Jo clarifies after swallowing a mouthful of chili. “It’s already set up.” Jo grins.


	4. Let's Spend the Night Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas stays the night, but it doesn't go as either of them planned.

Sam sits up in the plush chair, “So let me get this straight. Your parents told you not to come home for Thanksgiving?”

“Yes.” Cas nods, looking away.

“That’s just messed up.” Jo mumbles.

“They usually phrase it in a way that makes it seem like they’re doing it for my benefit.” Cas explains.

“You’re being too kind.” Dean reads off of Cas’s phone, “ _‘You should stay at school for Thanksgiving, relax with your friends.’_ ” Dean looks up and editorializes “Yeah because there’s sooo many people left on campus then.” He continues, “ _‘I talked it over with your mother, she didn’t think it sounded like you were too excited to come home on the short break anyway.’_ ” Dean hands Castiel his phone back, “Dude, what the hell is that about?”

“My parents emailed asking me for my class schedule and when I could leave to fly back. So I emailed exactly that. Apparently I was supposed to add in language saying how much I was looking forward to the visit.” He takes a deep breath. “I didn’t have to lie about that when Anna was alive.”

Dean boils inside, “You didn’t act excited enough to come back to an uncomfortable home, so they told you not to come. Great, yeah that’s a way to get your kid to want to see you.”

Cas shrugs. “I suppose I could be more accommodating. Nothing I do ever seems right, so lately I’ve given up.”

“Crap.” Jo looks stunned. “Well I’m never complaining about my parents again.”

Sam laughs, “We really lucked out with your family.”

Jo’s phone beeps, “Speaking of which, my mom's ears must've been burning.” She smiles down at the message and continues while typing a reply, “You guys still wanna watch _Firefly_?”

“You up for it?” Dean whispers so only Cas can hear. When he sees a slight a nod Dean exclaims, “Yes ma’am!”

After three episodes, Sam is yawning.

“Lightweight.” Dean teases.

“You guys have fun, I’m gonna head to bed.” Sam stretches before he pulls himself out of the chair. “Good to meet you Cas.” He extends a hand to Cas as he passes.

Cas smiles taking his hand, “You too Sam.”

“I think I’m going to get in bed too.” Jo declares, “I should probably be awake for my study group tomorrow,” She chuckles as she tosses Dean the remote. “Nice to see you Cas. Don’t be a stranger!” Jo bounces down the hallway with a backwards glance at Dean letting him know why she’s really going to bed.

Dean grins and nods a thank you to her before she looks away.

Upon hearing both bedroom doors close, Cas slides an arm across Dean’s chest and buries his face in Dean’s neck. 

Dean’s heart flutters in worry, “Hey man, you okay?” He whispers.

Cas shrugs then tightens his grip.

“Talk to me.” Dean runs his fingers through Cas’s hair.

Cas looks up and leans in to kiss Dean.

Although the kiss is unexpected, it’s not unwelcome. Dean breathes into Cas as his back is pushed into the couch. They grip onto each other with growing intensity.

Dean reluctantly pulls away resulting in a little whimper from Cas. “Move to my room?” His heavy breathing comes out of sore lips.

Cas nods and leans in for another kiss before they stand. Dean expertly turns off the tv without looking as he continues to nip at Cas. They walk with their arms around one another, attached at the hip. As he leans his head against Cas, Dean’s heart races.

Dean’s bedroom is cluttered. Books are piled up on a makeshift shelf and laundry is scattered around the floor. As he backs Cas into his bed, Dean gives a fleeting thought that picking up earlier would have been a good idea, but he was more concerned with cooking. 

When Dean thinks of the kitchen his face blanches. “Cas, I’m sorry to do this to you.” He breathes and pulls away, looking down at Cas sitting on top of his comforter. “I gotta go check the stove.” Dean looks away, and drags his hands along Cas’s arms. “I, I won’t be able to relax until I do.”

Cas swallows, then grabs Dean’s shirt pulling him in for another kiss. “Be quick.”

Dean sighs, happy that his anxiety isn’t being made into a joke.

The house is dark, but Dean easily navigates through the living room and into the kitchen. A nagging guilt bothers Dean as he gives into his Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Usually he tries to hide those tendencies, but around Cas they are starting to seep out. Dean is both happy at the prospect of finding someone he feels so comfortable around and anxious that if he really lets Cas see his OCD it’ll all be over. This afternoon Dean was sure Cas saw him check the stool for clay in the ceramics studio.

Embarrassment creeps up Dean’s neck as he sees the oven and stove are safely off. To really be sure, Dean looks at the knobs on the stove and checks them four times. On his way back to the bedroom, Dean also makes sure the front door is locked. It is. And he checks it four times as well, just to be sure. Needing that perception of security has always been important, but even more so when the ones he loves are nearby. The compulsion to check the locks are always lessened when he’s alone.

Dean returns to his bedroom fretting that maybe this was the move that will reveal the depth of his OCD and push Cas away. He holds his breath as he pushes open the door.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice meekly calls to the figure curled up on his bed facing away. His heart drops, he left Cas too long. He’s ruined it. “Cas?” Dean’s trembling voice repeats as he cautiously steps closer.

A streak of panic shoots through Dean as Cas’s shoulders quake with a muted sob. Dean rushes forward and perches on the bed. He reaches out, hesitant to touch.

“I’m sorry.” Cas whispers.

“What? Why?” Dean forgets his apprehension and lays down behind Cas wrapping him in his arms.

“This is not how you wanted to spend our time together.” He swallows, “Nor is it how I had envisioned the evening.”

Dean slips his hand under Cas’s arm pulling him closer. “Cas, man, your heart is racing.”

“It tends to do that.”

“Are you okay? Do you need me to get you something?”

“I’ll be fine. Just—” He pauses moving a hand to cover the one Dean positioned over his heart.

“What is it?” Dean’s voice is barely audible.

“Can I stay tonight? I don’t want to go back to my place.”

“I don’t want you to leave either.” Dean places a kiss on the back of his neck. Mounting anxiety makes Dean’s breath catch. “Cas?”

“Yes?”

“You’ll tell me what’s wrong sometime, won’t you?”

“I will.”

Still anxious over the elevated heart rate, Dean gives Cas a squeeze. Cas threads their fingers together and takes some deep breaths like he’s trying to calm himself.

They lay silently. Dean listens to Cas’s breath, monitoring it for changes. As they lay there Dean’s anxiety grows and he gets the urge to check the locks or go wash his hands. It takes all of his willpower to stay on the bed with his arms wrapped around Cas. After a while Dean calms as he feels Cas’s heart rate slow and his breathing steady.

“Hey um—” Dean’s voice cracks from disuse.

 

“Mmm?” Castiel hums, sounding drowsy.

“You mind if I take my jeans off? I mean I don’t want to make you unc—”

Cas’s small laugh rumbles in his chest. “Dean, I was prepared to do much more than lay here tonight. Taking off your jeans would not make me uncomfortable.”

Reluctantly disentangling themselves, both Dean and Cas take their pants and t-shirts off and return to bed. This time under the comforter.

 

**

 

They wake to a chilly house. Fall is in full force and cold seeps through the small bedroom window. Under the covers Dean is snug and content. He slides a hand over looking for Cas but finds warm divot instead. A rustling of cloth alerts Dean and he drowsily opens his eyes in the direction of the sound. Cas is reaching for something in his trouser pocket. As he takes out a small square container Dean’s heart sinks. Cas’s back is slightly turned, but Dean is sure he’s taking a pill. Dean freezes, and closes his eyes most of the way so he still looks asleep but keeps watching Cas’s movements. With a quick glance in Dean’s direction Cas slips the pill box back into his trousers and then slides back onto the bed.

“Good morning.” Cas rumbles and kisses Dean’s nose.

Dean is sure Cas saw him watching but they both ignore what just took place.

“Morning,” Dean opens his eyes fully and smiles at the feeling of Cas on top of him, trapping him under the covers.

“I have to go change, my shift starts in a hour. But it’s only three hours today. See you after?”

Dean nods, trying to push the image of Cas taking a pill out of his mind.

Cas shivers and kisses Dean once more. Dean melts into Cas’s lips and for a second forgets his worry as they exchange warm breaths.

“Usual spot?” Cas pulls away but rests his forehead on Dean’s.

Dean nods as Cas releases him from his blanketed cocoon and gets dressed.

The walk to the front door is peppered with kisses. Dean slightly regrets only having on a t-shirt and boxers as they exit the room. The house is cooler than expected, but Cas’s hands distract him as they feel his waistband. The front door is left shut as Cas backs into it. Dean runs a hand through Cas’s hair and rests it on the back of his neck. Gently he kisses a trail from Cas’s lips to his jaw. Dean ghosts his lips and breath over Cas’s neck and feels Cas’s grip tighten.

Dean breathes out, then aligns their eyes, “You like that huh?” He smirks with pride.

Cas answers with a languid kiss then whispers, “To be continued?”

“Mmhm.” Dean hums while kissing Cas’s jaw.

Even after Cas is gone, Dean’s still beaming as he makes coffee. He should probably get dressed but he doesn’t care, even if his feet are cold. He replays the morning in his head with a grin, but his face drops when he remembers what he saw while waking up.


	5. Around and Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas meets Charlie and Dean sleeps over at Cas's place for the first time.

“Ow! What was that for?” Dean rubs his arm where Charlie playfully punched him.

“For not introducing me to your boyfriend yet.”

“Dude, wait a few minutes. Why do you think I wanted to meet you here?” Dean gestures to the plastic chairs they’re sitting in outside of the UC coffee shop.

“Seriously?” Charlie punches Dean again, “Coulda told me.”

“Would it have saved me some injury?”

Charlie snorts a laugh while tucking a long strand of red hair behind her ear, “Probably not.”

Dean’s eyebrows furrow and his knee begins to bounce as he thinks about Cas and the pills.

“It’s probably nothing.” Charlie tries to soothe. “And if you’re so worried, ask.”

Dean clears his throat, “But, but what if he’s sick?” His voice is almost a whisper. Dean’s sure there’s more to it than just the pills. Cas’s heart was just too fast.

“Talk to him.”

Dean’s eyes light up as he sees Cas exit the bookshop. With Charlie’s words echoing in his head, Dean’s heart thrums as Cas nears.

“You must be Charlie.” Cas extends a hand.

“Hey man! It’s great to meet you!” She pops out of her seat to encompass Cas in a quick hug. Over Charlie’s head he meets Dean’s eyes with a happy smirk.

“You hungry?” Dean asks them both. “I was thinking pizza for dinner.”

 

**

Dean loves the smell of River Pizza. Not only do the bread and spices smell fantastic, but they will always remind Dean that he can do it. He can be on his own and be okay.

Under the table Cas threads their fingers together. “How long did you work here?” He asks Dean.

“Just a little over three years. Did my damndest to save up so I wouldn’t have to work during this last year, especially during student teaching. The advisors really don’t want you working another job during that. We’re supposed to be all focused on teaching.”

“Yeah but I think I see you less now than when you were working and going to school.” Charlie winks.

“Sorry.” Dean looks down and squeezes Cas’s hand.

“Oh I’m not complaining. You’re much happier.” She turns to Cas with a smile, “Do you know what you’re doing for your BFA show yet?”

“BFA?” Dean repeats.

“Bachelor’s of Fine Arts.” Cas’s voice rumbles as Dean feels a thumb softly rubbing his knuckles. “I’ve had a few ideas. I’m deciding between making some paintings or a couple teapots. There’s a dealer in town that I’d really like to impress.”

“Teapots? Really?” Dean realizes he sounds condescending, and restates. “So uh, that dealer sells teapots?”

“Among other things, but teapots are notoriously difficult to make. There’s a lot of parts that have to fit together just right to make the spout work properly.”

“I had no idea.” Dean raises his eyebrows in genuine surprise.

“Most people don’t.”

“Have you made many teapots?” Charlie asks.

Cas smiles easily, “Yes. Actually I’m quite good at it.”

“Sounds like a perfect thing for your show then.” Dean nudges his shoulder.

“Do you have a big project at the end of the year?” Cas asks Charlie.

“Yeah, I finished that ages ago.” She laughs. “I’m just here for the little paper that says I have a degree. There’s nothing that the computer science department can teach me that I don’t already know.”

“I told ya she’s a genius.” Dean nudges Cas.

Charlie shrugs, “We all have our hobbies.”

“Dean!” The waitress grins, “Place isn’t the same without you. You know if that teaching thing doesn’t work out, I’m sure Rufus would be happy to make you partner.”

“No I wouldn’t” A grumpy voice echos from across the pizza parlor.

“Yes he would,” the young woman whispers to the table, “He was just wishing that outloud yesterday.”

The same grumpy voice calls, “Anne Marie, don’t charge my boy anything, ya hear?”

The table erupts in quite giggles, while Anne Marie replies, “Wouldn’t dream of it Rufus.”

 

**

 

After leaving a tip the size of the bill for Anne Marie, the trio walk around the old part of town and then back to campus. It's chilly so Dean's thankful he has his jacket on, but it hasn't snowed so his t-shirt is the only layer below the thick green canvas. Charlie disappears into a computer lab, but not before giving Cas another hug and making him promise to get Dean to take study breaksㄧ whatever that entails. 

When she hugs Dean Charlie whispers, “He’s great. Talk to him.” A lump forms in Dean’s throat. He really doesn’t want to break this spell. He doesn’t want to find out something awful. But the anxiety that Cas is sick eats away at the evening's happiness.

As Cas leads them to the ceramics studio so he can check on a sculpture, Dean is lost in thought. His mind trips over itself with worst case scenarios. Dean tries desperately to ignore the memory of when he learned of his mother’s cancer; which leads to trying not to think about what it did to his father.

“Dean?” Cas squeezes his hand as they stand in the middle of the studio.

Dean shakes his head, coming back to the moment. “Sorry. I was just thinking.”

“I can see that. Are you okay?”

Dean sees the opening; he should take it but, he chickens out. Instead Dean leans into Cas and holds him tightly. “Yeah, ‘mfine.” Dean speaks into the crook of Cas’s neck.

“I’m done here. You wanna go to my place for a bit?” Cas runs his fingers through Dean’s hair.

Dean knows he’s not acting normal, but he can’t help it. He can’t bring himself to ask about the pills, but he can’t ignore that nagging worry.

“Sure.” Dean grips Cas’s grey jacket a little tighter before letting go.

The walk to Cas’s apartment is short. Dean hadn’t realized how close to campus Cas lived until now. It’s a tiny place and could be considered a studio apartment except for one partial wall that hides the bed. The only piece of furniture visible is a table covered in a plastic drop cloth that extends up the wall. On top of the table an incomplete canvas, with layers of green and blue, leans against the wall. At the bottom of the canvas a dried pallette and a cup of brushes sit on the table among other scattered paint supplies.

“I thought you did mostly clay stuff.” Dean examines a brightly colored canvas displayed on the wall. Streaks of abstract greens and yellows intertwine in the background, while a highly realistic tree branch cuts diagonally across the foreground. Dean recognizes it as part of the tree from Cas’s sketchbook.

“I do. I still love painting though.” Cas takes his wool coat off and tosses it into a tiny closet. “Figure I can paint anywhere, while I’m here I should use the university resources.” He rumbles a laugh, “Not like I have a kiln hiding around here.”

“Doesn’t this take a lot of time though?” Awed Dean studies a different painting hanging on the wall.

Cas rests his hands on Dean’s shoulders and looks with him, “Yeah, but the clay has to dry or be fired, or there’s just too many people in the lab to work. So when I’m not there, I paint.”

“Is this gold?” Dean gasps.

“Gold leaf, my Gustav Klimt phase.” 

“Whatever it is man, it’s gorgeous.” Dean feels hands behind him helping take off his jacket, they disappear with the sound of the coat hitting the floor.

The hands return sliding under his arms and across his chest. Lips trail up the side of his neck. The hands glide around Dean’s body until they reach his hips and hesitate. Dean remembers this behavior, Cas asking permission. He gently presses his hips back and turns his head so their lips can grasp for each other. It’s not a comfortable position. In fact it just causes Dean to become more frustrated. With a quick breath he separates their bodies and turns around, pressing his chest against Cas. Dean backs Cas into part of the wall that’s free of a painting and breathes on his neck. That’s it. No kissing, just hot breath and a drag of lips trailing up the side of his neck. A groan escapes Cas’s lips causing Dean to smile in triumph. 

A phone rings, not entirely breaking the mood, but it’s annoying. They try to ignore the ring while their breathing becomes heavy. There’s a short pause, then once the phone rings again Cas whimpers. 

“You okay man?” Dean asks breathless.

“I gotta turn that off.”

“Be my guest.” Dean says then leans forward trapping Cas in another long kiss. “Okay. Okay.” Dean says when the phone sounds. “Family?”

“Unfortunately.”

“You need me to leave?” Dean offers while cupping the side of Cas’s face. He wishes for Cas’s answer to be “no” but if Cas needs him to leave he will.

“Hell no.” Cas digs into his pocket and pulls out his phone. With one hand he clicks a few menu options and tosses the phone aside before kissing Dean again and grabbing ahold of his Rolling Stones t-shirt.

Dean’s hand trails down from Cas’s face to his chest. He can feel Cas’s heart pound, his own heart is beating rapidly but it still worries him. Cas grips the hand over his heart.

“Dude are youㄧ” Dean begins to question, anxiety and arousal being a confusing combination.

“My heart isn’t the only one beating fast.” Cas nips at Dean’s bottom lip, wiping away any ounce of worry Dean had.

Dean stands back a little, allowing Cas to guide him while walking backwards into the partitioned room.

 

**

 

When Dean wakes up he’s intertwined with Cas and blankets. It’s late and he feels guilty for not telling Sam where he went, though he’s sure Sam could probably guess. Carefully Dean slides out of the sheets on the low futon and pats the floor feeling for his jeans. It takes a minute but he retrieves his phone and sends Sam a quick text. Then with a grin, Dean slips back into his spot. This is it, he thinks. It’s where he wants to be. The closeness makes Dean’s heart swell.

As Dean feels his own heart flutter he’s reminded of that nagging worry. Slowly sliding his arm under Cas’s, he places a hand over Cas’s heart.

“I’m fine.” Cas rumbles. “Go back to sleep.”

Dean gives Cas a silent squeeze. Even though Cas says he’s fine, Dean still thinks his heart rate is faster than it should be. Then he reasons that maybe Cas just has a higher resting heart rate.

He drifts back to sleep holding onto Cas tightly. Dean decides to forget about the pills and heart rate. Whatever it is, Cas will tell him if he needs to. It can’t be that serious, Dean tells to himself while nuzzling into Cas’s hair, Cas seems fine. 

A few hours later it’s still dark as Dean fumbles into the bathroom. His eyes are barely open until he uses the sink. The tiny counter is littered with prescription bottles. Dean counts five. He looks at the name on one, but has no idea what he’s reading.

“Dean?” Cas calls out startling Dean.

“Coming.” His husky voice replies, with guilt crawling up the back of his neck. He shouldn’t have been looking at the bottles. If Cas wants him to know he’ll tell him. Dean eyes the front door and stove as he slinks back to Cas’s bed.


	6. Start Me Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas settle into a routine of spending the night together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been proofed, but I'm getting a migraine and everything is starting to go blurry. So I hope it all makes sense still. I wrote it awhile ago, but I still like to proof it again before posting. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

Over the next four days Dean and Cas fall into a comfortable pattern of spending the night together. Dean convinces Cas to stay over Sunday because he’s got an early class Monday. But what Dean _fails_ to mention is that he prefers his own bed and wants to act as if he never saw the medication bottles. Tuesday night they’re back over at Cas’s.

Reading in bed together, Cas shifts uncomfortably. “Your bed is so much softer.”

Dean snorts a laugh, “I didn’t wanna say anything man. How have you been sleeping on this rock?”

Cas shrugs. “Didn’t know anything different.”

“Spend the rest of the week at my place. It’s Thanksgiving anyway.”

“You don’t think Sam and Jo will get sick of me?”

“Not a chance.” Dean leans over to kiss Cas on the nose.

Cas shuts off the lamp that’s sitting on the floor without turning. Dean feels Cas take his book away and climb on top.

“I thought you were tired,” Dean mumbles through kisses.

“Tired of reading.”

Dean chuckles, “You’re such a cheeseball.”

“You love it.” Cas’s hands slide down Dean’s sides until they hook onto his boxers.

“I do.” Dean’s breathless reply goes almost unheard between kisses.

Dean once again wakes up before dawn and checks Cas’s heart rate. It’s become a routine. He tries to check whenever Cas is asleep. He tells himself that he’s just hugging Cas and that if he feels how Cas’s heart is beating it’s only a side effect. Cas has stopped saying anything when he catches Dean checking, he just threads their fingers together when it happens.

Wednesday Dean texts Cas after class. He expects to meet Cas in their usual spot but Cas replies that he’ll meet Dean at the house.

Dean stares at the screen with his anxious mind running through things that could possibly go wrong as his phone buzzes again.

_Got a dr appointment. Be home soon._

Dean has a mix of relief and worry. Grateful that Cas told him, but concerned about why Cas needs to go to the doctor. Dean decides, he’ll ask tonight. Maybe. As Dean walks home he hopes Cas will be the one to bring it up first.

“You’re frikkin kidding me Winchester. You _still_ haven’t talked to him?” Charlie’s agitated voice blares from the tiny speaker on Dean’s cell phone.

“I talk to him all the time.” Dean looks down the street before crossing into the campus parking lot.

“You know what I mean.” He can hear her sigh and guilt creeps up his neck. “Okay Dean, I’m sorry to do this to you, but you can’t talk to me about this anymore until you have a discussion with your boyfriend.”

Dean swallows, he knew this was coming. “See you tomorrow?” His apologetic voice tentatively questions. 

“You know it. Need me to bring anything besides green beans and the movie?”

“Nope. Thanks.”

 

**

 

Dean starts to dice apples while he waits for Cas. Lost in thought, more worst case scenarios run through his mind and he makes a silent promise to Charlie that he’ll ask Cas about the appointment.

As he rolls out the dough for a top crust, Dean feels arms slide under his own. He snuggles back into Cas with a sigh of relief.

“Everything okay?” Dean asks, hoping this counts.

“Been worse,” Cas kisses Dean’s neck. “I’m fine.”

“You keep saying that.”

Cas pauses and breaths out. Dean freezes worrying he just crossed a line. He hears Cas open his mouth to respond when Sam walks in.

“Hey man, not over the food will ya?” He jokes. “I’d rather not watch my big brother make out in the kitchen.”

Cas lets go of Dean and turns his attention. “Hello, Sam.”

“Hey Cas. Good day?” Sam picks up an apple slices and pops it in his mouth. Dean tries to bat him away, but Sam pinches two more before he goes to sit at the table.

Cas shrugs. “It wasn’t terrible.”

“Well that doesn’t sound like an endorsement.”

Dean adds the top crust to his pie, while listening intently to the conversation happening behind him.

“I had a call from my parents _and_ a doctor’s appointment today.” Cas sighs.

“You okay?” Sam’s relaxed tone mystifies Dean.

“Yeah, just routine.”

Dean lets go of his breath, grateful for Sammy’s questions. He sets the pie in the warm oven then turns his attention to cleaning. 

“What do you guys want for dinner?” Dean can’t believe how relaxed he feels now that he’s heard those words _just routine_. Why didn’t Cas just say that before?

 

**

 

While reading in bed Dean’s stomach rumbles. He tries to hide it, but he can’t.

“Good god man, open the window.” Cas chuckles.

Dean reaches up and lets the cold autumn air in, laughing nervously. “Garlic.”

Cas bursts out laughing. “You’re not the only one.”

“Blaming it all on me, huh?” Dean giggles and and pokes Cas in the side.

“I never said such a thing.” Cas chuckles as Dean crawls on top of him continuing his poking bombardment. “I merely asked you to open the window.” He gasps between laughs then grabs hold of Dean’s t-shirt and pulls him to his lips.

Dean runs his fingers through Cas’s hair earning him a moan. He leans their foreheads together, quietly chuckling. “I guess garlic pasta is a bit much for us.”

Cas snorts. “Apparently.”

They break down laughing again, dissolving into a tangle of sheets and kisses.

“You guys okay in there?” Jo’s muffled laugh seeps through the walls.

“Yes!” Cas calls out with a grin then lunges at Dean pulling up his t-shirt.

“Fine!” Dean chuckles, “Jo, we’re fine!” He calls out while lifting his arms so Cas can pull off his shirt.

 

**

 

The following morning, Dean is still grinning as he prepares a pumpkin pie. He’s the only one awake and takes advantage of the quiet to work on a paper as the pie bakes. He’s engrossed in typing at the kitchen table when Cas shuffles in and sits down heavily in a chair nearby.

“Hey,” Dean greets Cas with a gentle rub of their socked feet.

Cas doesn’t respond, just breathes out and gently rubs his foot back. Dean keeps typing as Cas lays his arms and head on the table.

“You need coffee man?” Dean looks over for a moment, “I made some.”

Cas slowly gets up and pours himself a cup, then returns silently to his seat.

“You want some toast or somethin?” 

Cas shakes his head “no.”

“Just lemme know, k?” Dean leans over to Cas and is welcomed by warm lips on his.

Jo uses her full lung capacity as she walks into the kitchen. “Saaaammmmmm?” Pouring herself a cup of coffee, she grins knowingly at the two sitting at the kitchen table, “You two get _any_ sleep?”

“What Jo?” Sam already sounds exasperated with his adoptive sister as he enters the kitchen.

“Can you help me get the sheets down from the closet?”

“Already made the bed. Did it when I heard you cleaning the bathroom.” Sam grins, self-satisfied. 

“You’re the best!”

“Hey!” Dean feigns hurt.

Jo snorts, “While Sam and I were working, I don’t know what― no wait, I DON’T want to know what you two were doing.”

“I’m sorry Jo.” Cas’s voice is quiet, “Do you require any more help getting ready for your parents?”

“Oh thanks Cas, no. You don’t need to do anything. This lazybones on the other hand…” Jo nudges Dean playfully.

“Ahem? Who made the pies? Plus I made a honey cake earlier this week.”

Jo rolls her eyes, “Yes, Dean you’re helping too.”

Cas sighs whispering to Dean, “Honey cake was Anna’s favorite.”

Dean leans against Cas with a friendly nudge, “Yeah?” 

“We used to make it for her birthday.” Cas shakes his head in thought and quietly adds, “I don’t understand why my parents insist in marking her death. I’d rather continue to celebrate her life.”

Dean thinks back to the look on Cas’s face while he was on the phone at the Beaux Arts Ball. His heart squeezes in sympathy and Dean slides a hand over Cas’s fingers. 

Sam joins them at the large kitchen table with some toast. “It’s kinda funny that the master bedroom is used maybe two or three times a year. Otherwise we don’t even go up stairs.”

Cas looks at Dean quizzically. “I joke that it’s the spare bedroom. Technically my room is an office.”

“When are they getting here Jo?” Sam asks through bites.

“Only takes them about an hour to drive, so probably four? I’ll know for sure when Mom texts. She wanted to cook the turkey and slice it up before they came.”

“Great, I can get this paper done.” Dean squeezes Cas’s hand then turns back to his laptop.

After awhile the conversation lags and Jo takes some toast into the living room. Sam grouces that he just vacuumed, so she better pick up the crumbs. He follows her to watch some tv leaving Dean and Cas alone. Dean’s clicking on the keyboard is the only sound in the kitchen until the timer on the oven sounds. He saves the document before going to check the pie.

“I’m going to move back into my room to work, you wanna come? Or watch tv with them?” Dean nods in the direction of the living room.

“I’ll come with you.” Cas’s quiet tone confuses Dean.

“You okay?” Dean nervously swallows, not sure if he should be asking this yet again. He doesn’t want to annoy Cas.

“Just have a headache.”

“Anything I can do to help?” Dean pauses at the table and cups Cas’s cheek before picking up his laptop. Cas closes his eyes a leans into the touch.

“I’ll be fine.” Cas whispers.

Dean leans over and gently kisses Cas on the forehead, “Wanna fill up your coffee before heading back?”

Cas nods and shuffles to the coffee maker.

Dean sets up his workstation on the bed. Lesson plans are scattered on his knees, a sheet of standards is by his hip and the laptop on his thighs. Cas carefully climbs into bed next to Dean. Once situated, Cas exchanges the cup of coffee for the sketchbook on the nightstand and begins drawing. Dean likes the sound of the pencil and occasionally tries to peek at what Cas is working on. Images of an ornate pie pan from various angles cover the page. The lines look shakier than Cas’s typical drawings. When Dean is nearly done with his paper, he feels a gentle rub on his foot. Dean softly presses back, smiling to himself as he saves the document for a final time.

Elated that the assignment is done, Dean closes the laptop and tosses the papers on the floor. He slides the laptop under the bed, then inches closer to Cas and gazes in Cas’s direction until he’s noticed.

“What?” Cas half laughs.

“Just watching you.” Dean grins.

“Uh huh.”

Dean feigns innocence, “Can’t I just watch my boyfriend draw and be amazing?”

Cas raises his eyebrows, “I suppose. But I know that look.”

Dean inches closer into Cas’s space so there’s no room for Cas to move his arm to draw. “I have no idea what you mean.” Dean grins.

“You’re incorrigible,” Cas sets his sketchbook aside and smiles for the first time today causing a zing to excite Dean’s heart.

“Can’t believe you put up with me, I―” Dean stops himself, instead of finishing the sentence he hungrily connects their lips and glides a hand over Cas’s jaw. His fingertips slide over Cas’s cheek and into his hair. Cas sighs into Dean’s mouth and presses his body closer.

They hear the front door open and shut and mumbled voices in the living room but don’t stop. Cas sucks Dean’s bottom lip causing Dean to whimper a little. He slides a hand down Cas’s back, inching its way below the waist.

Charlie’s voice raises above the mumble of the living room. “Dude, where are they?”

Dean pulls Cas as close as he can and breathes on the side of his neck then gently sucks on his earlobe.

The rustling outside the bedroom nears, but their hands don’t stop exploring.

Sam clears his throat in the hallway, “Uh, Dean, you done with your paper yet? Charlie’s here. She says she brought what you asked for.”

Dean punctuates the words with kisses on Castiel’s neck. “Be there” _Kiss kiss_ “in a minute.” _Kiss_ “Almost done!” _Kiss kiss_

Cas’s voice rumbles, “Well that’s not true.” He slides his hands down Dean’s backside, smiling at the buck in response.

Placing their foreheads together, Dean breathes out “To be continued?”

Charlie calls out, “Dude! Get out here we’re gonna start without you. Cas I told you to make him take breaks!”

Dean and Cas lock eyes, trying not to laugh.


	7. Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanksgiving and a confession from Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to post a chapter a day (my original goal was a chapter a week), but I might not be able to make a chapter/day later this week. The story is written, so no worries on me abandoning it. It might just take a little longer than I had wanted.
> 
> This chapter is the calm before the storm.

“Dude, I just got decent.” Dean playfully whines to Cas with his back to the bedroom door. “If you keep kissing me like that I won’t be able to join our company.”

Cas chuckles and kisses Dean once more before placing his hand on the door knob.

“Wait.” Dean breathes and kisses Cas deeply once more. “Okay.”

“Ready?” Cas nuzzles Dean’s cheek.

With a sigh Dean steps aside so Cas can open the door. Dean grabs the comforter from his bed and casually holds it in front of himself as he follows Cas into the living room.

“Why hello there Linus.” Sam teases. “Cold?”

“Just getting comfortable.” Dean responds with slightly reddened ears.

“Hey Cas!” Charlie waves from the couch. “You are making him take breaks right?”

“As often as I can.” Cas gently smiles.

Jo calls from the kitchen,“You guys wanna soda?”

“Got any Mountain Dew?” Charlie inquires.

“Sure do! Anyone else?” Jo asks again.

“No thanks.” Sam replies.

Dean looks at Cas, who shakes his head. “Nah we’re good. Thanks Jo.” Dean plops himself with the comforter to the side of the couch. Cas worms his way under the blanket, leaving room for Jo to climb onto the couch behind them.

Jo brings in two Mountain Dews and hands one to Charlie before she curls up on the couch.

“Ready for _The Final Frontier_?” Charlie grins holding up the remote.

Startled, Cas looks at Dean with glistening eyes. “Is this what you asked her to bring?” He whispers.

“Yeah,” Dean’s voice is soft so only Cas can understand. “Happy Thanksgiving Angel.”

“Dean, I—”

“You two gonna whisper the whole time, or can we start the movie?” Jo complains. 

Dean looks up to Charlie and nods. Soon the living room is filled with sounds of an alien desert, but Dean and Cas watch each other. Under the blanket Dean gently holds Cas’s arm where the feather tattoo sits. His thumb softly rubs over the inked skin while they lean their foreheads together. As the sounds of the movie change into a camping trip, their toes find each other and they sit up directing their attention to the screen.

Halfway through the movie Jo picks up her phone and blurts out, “Oh hey, Mom and Bobby are going to be here in an hour.”

“Cool. Uh, Cas could you help me with the table extension?” Dean smiles.

“You don’t have to do that now Dean,” Sam points out, “I can help later or Bobby can.”

“Yeah but Sam, I still have to make the whipped cream. And did you do the stuffing yet?”

“The stuffing is only going to take like twenty minutes. Just relax and enjoy the movie Charlie brought over for _you_.”

Dean’s neck feels hot. He tries to sit and concentrate on the film, but his mind is running through all the things he wants to get done. After a few minutes of mounting anxiety he kisses Cas on the cheek and retreats to the kitchen. Sam grabs the remote and pauses the movie as he leaves.

“Keep it playing Sam, I’m just going to start warming things up.” Dean feels his brother’s annoyed eyes on him but doesn’t turn to look. He knows he can wait, that he _should_ wait, but the longer Dean thinks about the stuff yet to be done he feels nauseated with unease.

There’s some grumbling in the living room that Dean can’t quite hear as he sets a pot on the stove. “Stovetop? Sam, really?” Dean whispers to himself as he opens the package. It’s good, but Dean worries that it’s not good enough for the family gathering.

He then turns the oven on to warm Charlie’s green bean casserole. That way the oven will be warm incase Ellen wants to heat up the turkey slices. As Dean stirs the stuffing he hears footsteps behind him. For a second he tenses, thinking it’s Sam going to tell him to “just relax” again, but the footfalls are different.

“Want some help?” Cas wraps Dean in his arms.

Dean places a hand over Cas’s forearm. “You don’t need to do anything. I don’t want you to miss the movie because I’m being annoying.”

“Babe you’re not annoying.” Cas kisses the back of Dean’s neck.

Dean’s heart flips and he closes his eyes for a moment.

“Plus,” Cas continues, “It’s not like I haven’t seen the movie before. Thank you for asking Charlie to bring it though. That was very nice of you.” Cas punctuates his sentence with another kiss. “Want to go get the table extension?”

Dean breathes, happy that he can get the chores done. “Thank you.”

Taking Cas by the hand, Dean leads him through the living room and into the hallway.

“Ellen and Bobby have a nice second-home.” Cas comments looking at the large closet.

“Yeah, they do alright.” Dean chuckles. “Bobby owns a chain of auto repair stores and Ellen has a few restaurants. That’s how they met actually. One of Ellen’s delivery vans broke down and Bobby helped her out.” Dean nods to Cas in the direction he needs help lifting. Cas obliges without needing further explanation.

Once they have the table leaf out of the closet and leaning up against the hallway, Dean explains, “It’s not that heavy, just clumsy to carry.” 

Dean gives a quick glance down the hall to see if Sam, Jo and Charlie are still watching the movie. When he sees the coast is clear, Dean pulls Cas into the closet with him.

Their lips hungrily meet one another until Cas snorts a laugh. “I try to live my life outside of storage rooms, thank you.”

Dean smirks, “What? Don’t like being in the closet?”

“Not if I can help it.” Cas chuckles and gives Dean one last kiss before exiting. They lock eyes and smile while carefully walking back to the kitchen with the extension.

As they put the table together Cas seems to ask out of nowhere, “Do you have any markers?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Can I use them?”

“Sure.” Dean opens a drawer in the kitchen and pulls out a packet of eight washable markers.

“Scissors?”

Dean silently retrieves the items with a question written on his face.

“Thanks, see you in the living room.” Cas kisses Dean with a smile then exits.

Dean stands in the kitchen for a moment deciding if he should make the whipped cream. On one hand it’ll disturb the people watching the movie, but on the other hand it would be done. But, they usually like having a break between dinner and dessert and he could make it then. It’d give people time to relax. But Dean would rather be cleaning in that break. He stands there frozen in indecision until he hears Cas call out for him. Dean clenches his fists, trying to redirect his mind. When Cas calls for Dean to come join them a second time, Dean checks the stuffing and green beans then grabs a Dr. Pepper from the fridge and leaves the kitchen.

In the living room Cas has his sketchbook out and is hard at work with the scissors and markers. Dean plops down in his space next to Cas to see that he’s making place cards.

He hands Dean a small paper that says “Jo” in script with three fall leaves drawn nearby. “Will you fold it here please?” Cas directs.

Dean feels the corner of his mouth turn up in a smile as he takes the paper from his boyfriend. They repeat the process for each name then retreat back to the kitchen, causing them to miss the final scene of the movie. 

“You sure?” Dean asks as they walk away from the small screen.

“Yeah.” Cas replies with a hint of _duh_ to his voice, which makes Dean smirk and hold his hands up in surrender.

“Just making sure.” 

Before they set the cards out, Dean retrieves the dishes from a cabinet. Cas sets the names down in a pile and takes out a handful of silverware. They easily work together, moving around each other efficiently.

“I’ll defer to your expertise in setting the places.” Cas hands Dean the names.

“Uh, I donno. I guess we should put Ellen and Bobby at the heads of the table.” Dean starts placing the cards. “Where do you wanna sit?”

“By you.” Cas smiles.

“Well yeah, but I mean— okay how about I put you in-between me and Charlie. Sam and Jo can go on the other side.” Dean approves of his decision, although Bobby and Ellen are kind, if he were in Cas’s position sitting next to the parents would be intimidating.

Just as they finish, the front door opens.

“You ready for this?” Dean holds his hand out.

Cas swallows nervously as he slides their fingers together, “I thought I was.”

“They’re going to love you.” Dean smiles.

“How can you be so sure?” Cas turns his attention to the excited chatter in the living room.

 _Because I do._ Dean thinks but instead replies, “Because you’re awesome.”

Before Dean and Cas leave the kitchen the bustling group crosses the threshold, and soon the kitchen is filled with excited chatter. Dean reluctantly lets go of Cas’s hand in order to give Ellen a hug.

“Hey Dean, good to see ya.” She smiles while directing traffic. “Sam, just set the turkey tray on the table, we don’t need to heat it up again.” Ellen takes Dean’s hands, rubbing his knuckles with her thumbs. “You look good kid.” Dean knows what she’s referring to and is grateful she leaves it at that. The last time he saw Bobby and Ellen he wore long sleeves, despite the hot weather, hoping to cover some of the results of his OCD.

While holding a grocery bag Bobby gives Dean a one armed hug. “Hey boy.”

“Charlie, where’s Gilda? I thought we’d see her.” Ellen asks while Charlie sets the green beans on the table.

“Oh she’s at her parents. I wasn’t, I mean, we weren’t ready to _meet the parents_ yet.” Charlie quickly makes an apologetic look at Cas. “Not that it’s a bad step or anything, it’s just— I’ll stop talking now.”

“Mom what do you wanna put the cranberry sauce in?” Jo asks while looking through the cupboards.

“Just any small bowl.” Ellen replies, her eyes focusing on Cas. “This must be Castiel.” She wraps him in a warm hug. Dean sees Cas return the hug with apprehension.

“Where’s the can opener?” Sam calls to Dean.

“In the drawer by the sink.” Dean offers then pauses thinking, “Why, what’s in a can?”

Jo laughs, “The cranberry sauce of course.”

“If you wanted good cranberry sauce you coulda just said so. I woulda made some.” Dean tells her while putting a comforting arm around Cas.

“I like cranberry gel.” Bobby states, giving the offending container to Sam.

“It has a pleasing aesthetic.” Cas offers.

“See!” Bobby points to Cas while looking at Dean, “That means alot coming from an artist.”

Dean half smiles squeezing Cas’s shoulder. He wonders how much Jo has told her mom. He hasn’t mentioned anything, that includes Cas being an artist. Memories of his last family introduction flash before him, and Dean cringes. He knows this will be different, Cas is different, but the memory still flushes a wash of guilt over him.

“So that’s what you two were doing!” Charlie picks up a place card.

Ellen looks at her own name card, “This is really beautiful Cas. Thank you.”

 

**

 

After dinner, Cas helps clear the table. Dean sees Ellen softly say something to Cas while patting his arm. He hopes Cas will tell him about it later, but Dean is soon distracted with cleaning and making whipped cream.

Deep under the covers once the long day is over, Cas pulls Dean’s arms around him in their prefered position. “Ellen and Bobby are nice,” he murmurs getting comfortable.

“Yeah, I didn’t think Bobby would be up for marathoning _Are You Being Served?_. Apparently the man as a soft spot for British comedy I wasn’t aware of.” Dean pulls Cas in close, nuzzling the back of his head.

Dean wants to know what Ellen said to Cas, but his mouth goes dry when he tries to ask.

“I’m not a drug addict. Just so you know.” Cas blurts out.

“Uh—” Dean is stunned. Guilt nauseates him, he can’t say the thought hadn’t crossed his mind.

“Ellen said your last boyfriend was, and that it’s nice to see you ‘so happy for a change.’” Cas yawns and threads their fingers together. “That was a quote by the way.”

Dean squeezes Cas and plants a soft kiss on the back of his neck.

“Bobby even said that he thinks we’re good for each other.” Cas pauses, Dean can hear him yawn, then mumble, “What was that other guy like?”

“He was a dick.” Dean says simply. 

“That wasn’t the guy who always wore black, never shaved?”

Dean feels sick just thinking about it. “How do you—?”

“I saw you at the bookstore with him last year.” Cas squeezes Dean’s hand, “You were arguing. He sounded jealous.”

Dean snorts, “Turns out there was good reason for him to be.”

“Mm?”

Dean kisses the back of Cas’s neck, “He thought I was looking at you too much.”

“Oh,” Cas squeezes Dean’s hand, “Well, uh, that’s how I got the impression it might be okay to _approach_ you at the Beaux Arts Ball.”

Dean snorts, “So that’s what we’re calling it now.” He holds Cas tighter for a moment, “Well that made the whole messed up relationship worth it then.”

Dean doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he’s startled awake with loud banging on his door.

“Get up lazy bones!” Jo calls from the hallway. “Time to go shopping!”

Dean rolls over to squint at the clock, “It’s three a.m.!”

Jo opens the door, “I know, I let you sleep in.”

“But—”

Cas shifts under the covers as he wakes up.

“No buts. It’s tradition Dean. Get up. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

“Apparently we’re going shopping.” Dean mumbles to a blurry-eyed Cas.

“I heard. It’s tradition.” He smirks and pulls Dean in for a kiss.


	8. Let it Loose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's flying high and feeling so happy that he says something he might come to regret.

Dean watches until Cas’s figure is engulfed into the Black Friday crowd.

“He’s fine.” Jo tugs on Dean’s jacket. “Sam and Charlie won’t let him get lost.” she chuckles.

“I have no idea what to get him.” Dean shakes his head, thinking.

“You’ll think of something kid.” Ellen smiles and pats Dean on the back.

Dean lets himself be guided from store to store in the mall. It’s difficult for him to think in the crowd and the longer he’s there the more anxious he feels. He really hates this tradition but doesn’t have the heart to tell Jo. As they move around in the sea of people, Dean’s hands clench into fists inside of his jacket pockets. He can feel his nails dig into his palms and although he knows it’s not a good thing, it’s the only thing that keeps him calm. 

His brain isn’t working. All Dean wants to do is run, so he excuses himself to the restroom instead. It’s only slightly less crowded and the stench forces him to reduce his handwashing time― so he’d oddly grateful for the horrendous smell. In the hallway between the restrooms and the shopping mall, Dean watches the shoppers go by in herds. Unwilling to go back into the mall but wanting to leave, he feels stuck.

The phone in his pocket vibrates. Dean retrieves it expecting a text from Jo telling him what store to meet them in next. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees it’s Cas.

_Cas: You surviving?_

_Dean: barely_

_Cas: Where are you?_

_Dean: just outside the restroom, 1st floor_

_Cas: I’ll be right there._

Dean breathes a little easier knowing Cas is en route. When he places his phone back in his pocket, Dean’s hands don’t become fits but just rest inside the pockets.

He closes his eyes as he leans against the wall. The hallway is empty and sounds from the bustling mall bounce down the tile walls and floor. Dean tries to hum a Rolling Stones song until he hears footsteps. Figuring it’s someone who’s going to the restroom, Dean keeps his eyes closed trying to stay calm. A warm body leans in and chapped lips peck his nose. 

Cas wraps his arms around Dean. “19th Nervous Breakdown?” Cas whispers.

“Yeah, I know. I’m just being stupid. I―” Dean is silenced with a kiss.

“Better?” Cas leans against the wall next to Dean and clasps Dean’s hand.

“Getting there.” Dean squeezes Cas’s fingers. Looking down at his feet, Dean’s relief at having Cas with him is replaced with anxiousness that _this_ is the thing that’s going to push Cas away. “Sorry.” Dean whispers, unable to articulate his whole meaning.

“I’m not.” Cas lifts their intertwined hands to his mouth and kisses Dean’s knuckles.

Dean’s phone vibrates again. He takes it out with his free hand. “Oh thank god.” Dean sighs in relief while looking at the message.

“Time to go?” Cas rubs Dean’s knuckles with this tumb.

“Yes.” Dean breathes.

 

**

 

“Successful hunt?” Bobby asks while setting down a platter of pancakes.

“I’m not telling you!” Jo grins.

“Found Gilda a bracelet, so I’m happy.” Charlie passes a plate of bacon around the table.

Sam smirks setting down a plate of scrambled eggs, “I told Charlie she shoulda bought the ring that went with the bracelet too.”

Charlie’s face goes red to match her hair, “Maybe later, I’m not saying no, just― maybe later.”

“I found something for just about alla ya,” Ellen kisses Bobby’s cheek as he sits down next to her.

Dean stays silent while listening to the others retell their shopping adventures. Cas even voices a story about a woman who thought he wanted to buy a necklace and just about shoved him into a display case to get it. Under the table he squeezes Dean’s hand. Dean responds by nuzzling his socked foot under Cas’s toes. While he listens to the happy hum of conversation, Dean’s eyes start to droop and he leans against Cas. He’s nudged back into consciousness when Cas stands and holds out his hand. Dean lets himself be led back to bed.

 

**

 

Eyes closed and grinning, Dean curls into Cas’s side.

“I thought you were tired.” Cas chuckles while holding Dean tightly.

“I am,” Dean noses Cas’s neck. “But you got undressed and in bed.” He beams with satisfaction.

“You’re going to be really sticky when you wake up.” Cas runs his fingers through Dean’s hair.

“Take care of that later,” Dean mumbles into Castiel’s shoulder and punctuates with a kiss.

Cas kisses the top of Dean’s head and chuckles. “This room is beginning to have a certain smell.”

Dean feels Cas’s arm move, “Don’t you dare open that window. I like it.” Dean blindly gropes for Cas’s arm intertwines their fingers and hungrily connects their lips.

Hours later the scent of chili wakes them. Rolling over Dean is disgusted with himself. “Awe man, I’m crusty _and_ sticky. How is that even possible?” He nuzzles Cas’s cheek. “Shower?”

Cas’s laugh rumbles deeply as Dean’s hand runs the length of Cas’s torso. “You’re incorrigible.”

“So you’ve said.” Dean kisses Cas’s cheek then nose. “I have a reputation to live up to.” As he leans in and connects their lips a happy sigh escapes Cas and he reaches up to pull Dean in closer.

With their lips only centimeters apart Cas laughs, “You are sticky _and_ crusty!”

“Shower?” Dean asks then breathes on Cas’s neck, with hot breath and lips making a slow pathway down from Cas’s jaw.

Cas tries to muffle a moan. “If you want me to actually move, I suggest we go now. Otherwise―” Cas bites his lip and his grip on Dean tightens as he holds a breath trying to maintain himself.

Dean can’t contain his smile as he kisses a trail down Cas’s bare chest. Reluctantly he sits up and searches for their t-shirts and boxers. The restroom is only across the hall, but Dean would rather not risk being seen by family.

They dress slowly, with their lips parting only to put the shirts over their heads. Cas leans up against the doorway blocking their exit. He pulls Dean in with one hand on the Rolling Stones t-shirt while the other threads though Dean’s short hair. Dean whimpers with need when Cas props a leg up on the bed. He whines again when Cas stops and opens the door. With a quick dash across the hallway they’re inside the bathroom and under the warm water.

 

**

 

Charlie texts Dean her good-byes. She left after breakfast so she could meet Gilda at home. He replies with a smile as the rest of the family plops in front of the tv for another marathon, this time _The X-Files_. When Dean looks around the room, his heart is singing. He’s never felt so happy. Dean tucks the comforter around his feet making sure that there’s enough room for Cas in their spot on the floor. When Cas joins him under the blanket, their feet find each other and absent-mindedly nuzzle.

Dean’s elation continues into the night when he and Cas retreat to the bedroom once again. They hold each other, silently rubbing their feet together. When Cas rolls over to get into their favorite sleeping position, Dean wraps his arms around Cas pulling him in tightly.

The words Dean has wanted to say burn a hole in his chest. He can feel them inching their way to the surface. A couple times Dean kisses the back of Cas’s neck with the words on the tip of his tongue. It isn’t until Cas grabs Dean’s hand and threads their fingers together that Dean is helpless in staying silent.

“I love you,” He whispers with another kiss. Cas responds by squeezing his hand and nudging a foot.

 

**

 

Saturday morning Dean wakes up before the rest of the house. He kisses the tuft of hair sticking out from under the comforter, then slips on some grey sweatpants and a blue t-shirt. Before leaving the bedroom Dean grabs socks, it’s colder than it has been and he sees why when entering the kitchen. A dusting of snow covers the backyard. As he washes his hands, Dean smiles thinking it looks like the world is decorated.

Deciding to make cinnamon rolls, Dean retrieves a paper from a stack of favorite recipes. He brushes some flour dust off the partly crumpled paper. It’s his one of his favorite recipes because it doesn’t require yeast so it can be made quickly.

As Dean rolls out the dough, he hums. A smile seems etched on his face and as he spreads the filling a tiny bit falls onto the floor. He continues working leaving the small mess until the rolls are in the oven. With a wet paper towel Dean wipes up the dropped cinnamon and sugar, but doesn’t spend a lot of time in the cleaning. He rinses his hands, then settles himself at the table to work on his lesson plan portfolio.

About twenty minutes into working, Dean turns the coffee pot on wishing he had done it sooner. But as he works, Dean loose track of time and only looks up when the oven sounds. He retrieves the cinnamon rolls and sets the pan on a cooling rack, then pours himself a cup of coffee. Dean doesn’t look up again from the laptop until he hears feet shuffling into the kitchen.

“Morning, there’s coffee,” Dean’s heart sings as he sees Cas make his way to the coffee pot. Dean takes a sip of his own drink, but it’s gone cold.

“Smells good.” Cas’s voice is low.

“Got another headache?” Dean worries at Cas’s slow movements.

Cas shrugs noncommittally and plops himself in the chair next to Dean.

Jo and Sam join them in the kitchen a few minutes later and make a beeline for the baked goods. Ellen and Bobby follow soon after.

“We’re all packed up.” Bobby declares while accepting a cinnamon roll from Jo.

“Awww,” Jo complains.

“I’ve got a couple things to check at the office and we’d like to get on the road before there’s more snow.” Ellen kisses her daughter’s forehead. “It’s been good seeing ya’ll.”

“You too Ellen, Bobby.” Sam nods with a bite of cinnamon roll.

“I’m gonna wrap mine up, if you don’t mind boy.” Bobby directs to Dean.

“Nah, I’m sure there’s a container around here you can take.” Dean smiles easily as he gets up to make a to-go box of cinnamon rolls. When he hands the box to Ellen it drops and hits the floor with a loud clap.

Dean’s heart skips a beat and he instinctively looks at Bobby. Although it’s been seven years since his father left him at Bobby’s, Dean stills awaiting a reprimand.

“Thanks hon,” Ellen picks up the box and passes it to Bobby. None of the treats fell out and the plastic lid stayed on. Then, just as she arrived Ellen checks Dean’s hands.“You’re doing good kid.” As she wraps Dean in her arms, his anxiety starts to settle.

They follow Ellen and Bobby to the door, repeating their hugs and goodbyes. Both of Dean’s surrogate parents hug Cas before they leave, making Dean’s heart flip. Once the door is closed, the tiny crowd disperses with Sam retreating to the couch and opening up his laptop. Jo leaves to take a shower. Cas shuffles off to the bedroom and Dean goes to tidy up the kitchen before joining Cas.

By the time he gets to his room, Cas is dressed and has his bag packed. Dean thinks he sees his Cas’s hands shake a little as he slips on his long wool coat.

“Leaving?” Dean doesn’t know what else to say.

“Yes, I―” Cas doesn’t make eye-contact unnerving Dean, “I need some time.”

Dean doesn’t understand what’s happening, “Uh, sure.” He tries to be supportive. Of course being around a lot of people is overwhelming and of course Cas would need some alone time. “Dude, let me drive you. It’s cold.”

Cas nods, “Thank you,” his voice is almost inaudible.

“Take some cinnamon rolls?” Dean asks, trying to ignore the crack forming in his heart.

Cas shrugs, still avoiding Dean’s eyes.

Dean takes Cas’s noncommittal answer as an opening. “Lemme put some in a container. I’ll be ready in a second. Just need my shoes and a jacket. That’s it.” His heart hammers as confusion swirls around his head.

The short car ride is silent with Cas slumped in the passenger seat. Dean’s hands sweat despite the temperature. When he parks at Cas’s apartment Dean hesitantly slides his fingers close to Cas. Cas softly touches Dean’s fingers making Dean’s frantic heart leap.

“See you later?” Dean’s voice cracks.

Breathing slowly, Cas whispers, “I’ll text you.” When he leans over for a kiss, Dean catches his eyes. They’re red and watery, making a lump form in Dean’s throat. The kiss is light and quick.

Dean watches Cas walk to the front door with confused hot tears threatening to roll down his face. Cas’s hands are shaking and It takes him two tries to get the key in the lock.


	9. 19th Nervous Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although Cas said he'd text Dean, he hasn't and Dean doesn't handle the stress well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll write more in the end notes, but I just want to say that everyone experiences anxiety/depression/OCD differently. I've used my own experience to inform this fic.
> 
> Also fyi happy fluff at the end of the chapter <3

Dean ignores the footsteps behind him and keeps scrubbing the floor. He feels guilty he let it go for so long. The floor is filthy. 

“Dean?” Sam’s voice is small. “Did you and Cas break up?”

“NO.” Dean hisses and continues scrubbing. “I don’t know.” He softly confesses.

“‘Cause last time you were―” Sam creeps closer.

“Cas is nothing like _him_.” Dean dusts the floor with more baking soda, the vinegar bubbles on contact and stings his fingers as he pours but he ignores the pain.

“I know, but―”

“This,” Dean gestures to the floor and holds up a reddened hand, “Is not his fault.” _It’s mine._ Dean thinks. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” He pauses for a second before returning to the floor.

“Do you want me to call Ellen?” Sam pushes.

“No. I’m fine.” Dean sighs and looks at his hands, “I’ve done this before. It won’t last long.” _I hope._

Dean scrubs the floor silently until his brother leaves. He’s unsuccessful at holding back tears once he’s left alone. The guilt from worrying Sam and anguish from _apparently_ hurting Cas is piercing.

It’s been three days since Dean dropped Cas off at his apartment. And no text. Dean finished his lesson plan portfolio the first day of no-contact and has been looking for other jobs to distract himself. He’s angry at how brittle he feels and it’s reflected in his hands. Three days of Dean not trying to keep his OCD in check has chapped his skin. He knows it’ll get worse, but at the moment he doesn’t care.

Thursday, day five of no-contact, Dean has an appointment on campus with his cooperating teacher. Dean wears a blue hoodie under his jacket and is grateful that it’s still snowing. Gloves hide his now scaly skin. During the meeting he hides his hands under his legs or pulls on the blue sleeves, covering the worst parts. It’s a good meeting. He receives his student teaching placement and more paperwork about what will be required of him. On the way out, Dean smiles thinking of the third grade class he’ll be meeting after Winter Break.

The silence on campus is calming and Dean enjoys listening to the crunch of snow beneath his feet. On autopilot, Dean walks to the University Center coffee shop. The warmth inside is welcoming but Dean spots Cas leaving work and scrambles to exit. Spilling some of his coffee, Dean keeps his eyes on Cas and pushes his back against the glass door to leave.

Once inside the safety of the Impala, Dean takes his phone out. He knows he shouldn’t, Cas said he’d contact _him_. So Dean makes a deal with himself. He’ll only send this one question, and if Cas doesn’t answer― or does, he’ll leave him alone.

_what did i do?_

He’s pretty sure he knows the answer and if he could take back the words he would. No that’s not all the way true. If he could take back _saying_ those three words he would, but he will never regret the feeling they expressed. Dean sighs, not expecting an answer but hoping for one. When his phone doesn’t buzz, he turns the car on and drives home.

Locking himself in his room Dean lies on his bed. The scent is lighter but the room still smells like Cas, like both of them. In a fit of anger Dean opens the window then clenches his fits until there are crescent moons carved into his palms. He releases his hands to scratch his wrist. Scratching only makes it worse so he scratches harder. The skin from Dean's wrist to halfway up his forearm turns bright read. To get himself to stop, Dean digs his fingernails into his arm. It’s not the first time he’s done this, he knows the cycle. Anger shoots through Dean. He doesn’t want to do this, but he doesn’t know how to stop. Hot tears well as he thinks of the class he hasn’t met yet. He’s sure he’s going to be a horrible role model. Resolving to try to keep his OCD in check so he doesn’t meet his class with red fingers and arms, Dean puts his hoodie back on and heads out the door.

“Going to the store.” Dean grumbles to Sam as he quickly exits the house. He doesn’t bother taking his jacket, it’ll be a quick trip. The car hasn’t completely cooled off from his return from campus, so it’s not unbearably cold as he gets in.

Dean drives to a nearby pharmacy. He quickly steps inside to avoid the cold then searches for a medicated lotion he’s used in the past. At the check out his phone vibrates, but he doesn’t take it out until he’s back in the car. It’s Cas.

_Nothing. You’re wonderful._

Dean stares at the text with anger and confusion until another arrives a moment later.

_I’m so sorry. I don’t deserve you._

Dean’s stomach sinks. He doesn’t like the sound of those words, so when he turns on the car instead of heading back home he drives to Cas’s apartment.

 

**

 

“Cas?” Dean knocks on the door. Unease turns into nausea. From the little window over the door it seems like there’s no light on inside. Leaving his car parked at the apartment, Dean runs to the only other place he knows where Cas feels comfortable.

Wheezing from his run in the cold, Dean walks into the ceramics lab with his fists clenched. Classes are over for the day and there’s only one figure hunched over a potter’s wheel. Dean tiptoes in, watching the figure tremble.

When Dean nears he extends a hesitant hand, “Cas?” His voice breaks.

Cas looks up with bloodshot eyes and tears staining his cheeks. Dean forgets his apprehension and kneels down to wrap Cas in his arms. “What’s going on man? Talk to me.” Dean whispers as Cas clings to him.

“I got put on a new medication and it doesn’t work.” Cas sobs, “None of them have. And I didn’t want to tell you because then I’d have to tell you why I’m on medication.” Cas’s words come fast as Dean feels tears on his neck. “I’m depressed. I mean clinically. It’s not ‘cause of Anna, losing her didn’t help but I’ve always been like this.” He gasps, “I’ve been trying to get help because she wanted me to and this last medication,” He pulls in a sharp breath squeezing Dean before he lets go. “It makes me shake.” Cas holds up his hands for Dean.

Cas’s hands tremble like he’s cold. “I can’t even make a simple dish for you.” He gestures to the lumpy dish on the pottery wheel. Happy he hasn't been forgotten, Dean's heart jumps but he immediately feels guilty because Cas is in so much pain. He glances at the plate, though messy, it’s the pie pan Cas was drawing.

Dean pulls Cas in for another hug, “It’s okay Angel.” Cas grips Dean tightly, “We’ll figure this out. Can you get off the medicine?”

“I am, but it’s a step process. I have to take less and less.” Cas pulls in a shaky breath, “This is my fifth one Dean. I’ve been on five different meds trying to find one that works.”

Remembering Cas’s bathroom and the prescription bottles, Dean’s heart twists painfully. “So we know the five that aren’t good. But there’s hundreds right? Keep trying to we find one.” He whispers, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Dean gets up from the awkward kneeling position and sits at the pottery wheel next to Cas. Extending a hand, Cas greedily grabs at the touch. Dean forgets about his hands until Cas looks down at his fingers. They’re beet red with flakey dry skin. Cas gasps and pushes Dean’s sleeve up to inspect his wrist and arm. Dean wants to cover his arm, but lets Cas inspect.

“Dean,” Cas’s voice lowers, “What happened?”

“I don’t handle stress well,” He takes a breath. It’s only fair that he shares too, “I’m OCD.” 

“I know.” Cas gently rubs Dean’s arms with this tumbs.

“You know?” Dean’s somewhat shocked, though he knows he shouldn’t be. It’s not like he’s been hiding it that well. 

Cas nods with renewed tears, “I’m sorry I upset you so much.”

“I did this Cas. Not you.” Dean looks away. “It’s okay man. I’m fine.”

“Dean you’re not fine. Your hands are bleeding.”

“Oh, uh” Dean takes his hands away trying for light heartedness, “I got some stuff for that in the car.” He avoids Cas’s eyes, not wanting to see the concern he’s caused.

“Dean?” Cas murmurs, “Do you see anyone for your OCD?”

“I didn’t know I could.” Dean mumbles, still not making eye contact.

“Course you can baby.” Castiel lightly touches Dean’s chin so he turns, then gently cups his cheek. “Have I ruined things between us?”

“God no. I―” Dean stops himself.

“I love you too.” Cas finishes.

Dean breathes a sigh of relief and nuzzles into Castiel’s hand.

 

**

 

Their winter boots lay tossed aside at the base of the futon as Dean and Cas curl into each other. They lay silently, fully dressed on top of the comforter, feeling each other’s breath in Cas’s tiny dim apartment. Despite the warmth inside, Dean keeps his hoodie on wanting to hide the angry skin irritation.

“I can’t promise there won’t be days that I don’t talk much or stay in bed.” With their foreheads touching, Cas grips the back of Dean’s sweatshirt.

“Is that what you were doing?” Dean voice cracks.

Cas nods, prompting Dean to pull him in closer until Dean’s chin rests gently on top of Cas’s head. “I like your t-shirt man.” Dean huffs a laugh into Cas’s hair and rubs the green fabric on Cas’s back.

“Sorry.”

Dean feels an idea spark in the back of his mind. “Don’t be. I like seeing you in my clothes.” He slowly breathes out before continuing. “I can’t promise that I won’t have trouble keeping my OCD in check.” Dean kisses Castiel’s hair.

“Love you.” Cas whispers with a kiss to Dean’s throat.

Dean moves to softly connect their lips. “Love you,” he mumbles against Cas’s mouth followed by languid kisses.

A vibration startles Dean and he sucks in an alarmed breath. “Oh my god, Sam. I told him I was going to the store.” Dean swallows guiltily as he shifts to take the phone out of his jeans. “That was hours ago.” Dean covers his face, while answering with the other hand. “Sam, I’m sorry. Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He uncovers his face grabbing for Cas’s hand, “Yeah,” Dean’s voice becomes thick, “We’re fine.” He lifts Cas’s hand and kisses his fingers. “Okay Sammy. I’ll tell him.”

Dean tosses his phone to the end of the bed and rolls toward Cas. “Sam ordered pizza and says you should come over.” Dean kisses Cas’s nose and leans their foreheads together again. “You know,” Dean’s voice quakes, “If, if you ever want to spend one of those in-bed days in my bed, you can.”

Cas silently chuckles and runs his fingers through Dean’s hair, “It’s not one of _those_ in-bed days.”

“I know.” Dean’s brittle voice replies. “I need you near me. I wanna make sure you’re okay, that you’re still eating.” Dean feels Cas shift at the mention of food. “I’ll sleep on the couch if you need more space, I just...” His voice trembles and fades.

“Thank you.” Cas whispers.

Minutes pass with them clutching onto one another until Dean’s small voice breaks the silence. “Cas?”

“Mm?”

“Was there something that triggered this? I mean besides the bad meds?”

Cas grumbles, “I got an email from my mother Saturday morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OCD is different for everyone. In the media we are often led to believe that if someone has OCD they are obsessive about having things in a particular order or a certain number of things. That _can_ be true, but it isn't for me. I react with stress. If I think someone is upset with me or if I did something that I'm embarrassed about etc. etc...I can spiral (I mean worse than my normal everyday OCD. It never goes away.). Everything in this chapter I have done. There's a big guilt component to OCD. If I'm doing a ritual like washing my hands because of anxiety, I _know_ I shouldn't and that makes me anxious and guilty which results in me doing more and feeling worse. Some of the guilt/ritual cycle revolves around feeling like I need to punish myself, and I can see Dean doing that as well. 
> 
> Also, I have tried quite a few medications. One gave me tremors and the most recent one made me feel dead inside. (Depression and OCD go hand in hand.)
> 
> One more thing. I don't really like that the boys say "I'm OCD," or "I'm depressed." It's taken me a long time, but I can finally see that I am not my mental illness- that's part of me, but it isn't me. I used to say I'm OCD, now I try to say I _have_ OCD. Though for the purpose of this fic, I don't think the boys would be to that point. Some days I'm not!
> 
> I hope you're still enjoying the fic. This chapter was one that I was nervous about. I think it's the first time I've really expressed what OCD for me is truly like.
> 
> (I have to work late tomorrow, so it's likely I won't be able to post another chapter until Friday.)
> 
> \------
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://4lov3.tumblr.com)


	10. Emotional Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter break is difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter deals with more self-harm issues. It isn't graphic, but the subject does come up. Just like last time I'll add more notes at the end.
> 
> I've edited and proofed the chapter the best I can. So I hope it's alright. I sunk into a low yesterday so on one hand I was really looking forward to spending time in this world, but on the other hand I wasn't sure if I could get it posted today. So please forgive me if I've missed some errors, I've tried my best- but that's often not good enough.
> 
> Thank you so so much for your kind messages. It means a lot to me. <333

“She wants me to skip the BFA show since I’ll be working in her office. My mother finds the show unnecessary.” Cas tells the table as Dean holds his hand tightly.

“What?” Sam sets his Dr. Pepper down in shock.

“Dude you can’t skip the show.” Jo pipes up after swallowing some of her pizza.

“Will you still graduate?” Sam questions.

“Yes. The show is really to attract attention of buyers and gallery owners.” Cas prods his slice of pepperoni pizza with a finger on his free hand.

Dean’s heart sinks remembering there’s a particular gallery Cas was hoping to catch the eye of; he leans into Cas’s shoulder softly.

“I’ll finish school but,” He looks at Dean guilty. “I’ll leave before graduation.”

“Dude, what?” Dean leans away from Cas and lets go. “You didn’t tell me that.” They stare at each other silently for a moment and before Cas can answer Dean leaves the room, scraping his chair on the floor as he fumbles to get away.

 _Of course he’s gonna leave. He was always going to._ Dean pouts in his room. He knows he should be supportive, he wants to be, but right now he needs to be alone. Dean clenches a fist digging his nails into his hand. When that doesn’t help he digs his fingernails into his arm. The pain takes his mind elsewhere and he gets some relief― even if it’s guilt ridden.

His bedroom door slowly opens. Dean sees Cas in his peripheral view but doesn’t look up. Instead, Dean digs his nails into another spot on his arm. Cas shuffles closer and sits on the bed taking Dean’s hands and holding them in his own.

“When are you leaving?” Dean hates how brittle his voice sounds.

“Dean, I...” Cas’s voice trails off like he’s trying to formulate a sentence. “I don’t want to leave earlier than graduation, I don’t want to leave you at all. But―”

“Your family.” Dean finishes.

“It was supposed to be my sister’s position in the company.”

“But you’re not her! And just because she got sick and died doesn’t mean that you have to replace her.” Dean feels guilty the moment the words fly out his mouth so, he turns his hands within Cas’s and clenches them into fists. 

Cas brings Dean’s hands to his lips, gently kissing the knuckles and smoothing other parts with his tumbs. Dean softens his fists at the tender touch.

“We never talked about after graduation.” Cas doesn’t make eye contact and lowers their hands so they’re loosely connected. “I’m sorry Dean. I didn’t want to think about it, but this was always the plan.”

“I remember.” Dean’s voice is low as he opens his hands to inspect the crescent shapes on his palms. “On our first date you described it as hellish.” Cas thumbs over Dean’s palm and kisses the indentations.

“Can we make a new plan?” Cas lightly touches Dean’s cheek.

Dean leans into the touch. “You want to try long distance?” A mix of relief and anguish floods Dean’s body.

“I don’t want to break up.” Cas threads his fingers through Dean’s hair.

“Me either.” Dean breathes, connecting their lips while trying to ignore the tears threatening to fall.

Resting their foreheads together, they silently breathe lost in thought.

“You’ll be gone all of winter break?” Dean mutters.

“Yes. The beginning of my company training.”

“How much time do we have when you get back?” Instead of clenching his fists again, Dean gently places a hand on Cas’s knee.

“About four months.” Cas kisses Dean’s cheek and slides his arms around Dean’s shoulders.

Dean places his arms under Cas’s, “Four months. Okay, we can work with that. Maybe I can get a teaching position somewhere closer to you.”

Cas breathes, “I’d like that.”

 

**

 

“You got everything?” Dean tries to hide his apprehension by grabbing ahold of the sleeve of his hoodie sticking out from under his jacket. He’s trying not to hurt himself, it doesn’t always work but he’s trying. Dean catches Cas’s soft smile when he notices Dean’s movements.

“Mostly.” Cas kisses Dean before he gets out at the airport terminal.

“You sap,” Dean snorts while continuing the stream of kisses.

“I love you.” Cas whispers and connects their lips one last time.

“You too.” His voice breaks, “Love you too.” Dean repeats, worried it’s the last time he’ll have the chance to say it. His heart hurts looking into Cas’s dejected eyes.

“Text you when I land.” Cas opens the door to light snowflakes floating to the ground. He grabs a duffle bag from the back seat and waves at Dean one more time before disappearing inside the terminal.

Dean’s phone buzzes as he pulls into the driveway at home. It’s a photo of a crumpled gift wrapped in green paper with a simple red ribbon. Dean had quickly stuffed it in Cas’s bag when Cas used the restroom right before they left for the airport. He worried about ripping the paper or that Cas would find it too soon.

_Thank you_

A lump forms in Dean’s throat as he replies, _open it_. The plan was for Cas to find it when he got to his parents’ house, but finding it sooner isn’t a bad thing.

Cas texts back with a photo of Dean’s Rolling Stone’s t-shirt draped across the duffle bag and a ♡.

Dean types with tears blurring his vision.

He shivers and realizes that sitting in a car when there’s a warm house a few feet away is not a good idea. Dean locks the Impala and shuffles inside with a rock in his stomach, anxious at getting through winter break and seeing what the future might hold.

 

**

 

“Dean, what are you doing?” Sam stands in the living room looking down at his brother lying parallel to the television.

Dean sits up embarrassed, “Oh, uh meditating?” He wraps his arms around his knees, “The doctor said I should try it and since my room is too small to lay on the floor I came out here.” Softer he adds, “Apparently I fall asleep if I try it on my bed.”

Sam sits down next to Dean, then lays back on the floor parallel to the couch.

“What are _you_ doing?” Dean questions.

“Joining you.” Sam closes his eyes, “That okay?”

Dean lays back down. “Uh, sure.”

A few moments of quiet breathing pass until they are joined by Jo. She lays down with her head between theirs and feet facing the opposite direction. A peaceful cadence of waterfalling fills the room.

“What’s that?” Dean wonders peaking through one eye.

“Shhh,” Jo admonishes softly, “It helps.”

“It kinda does.” Dean says to himself, closing his eyes again.

A few more minutes pass until a gentle tone on Dean’s phone tells him that his allotted time is over. His sits up with the others following. Jo turns the waterfall sound off on her phone and rests the device on the floor next to her.

“You like the campus doctor Cas recommended?” Sam asks.

Dean thinks for a moment, “Uh, yeah. She knows I’m graduating soon and said that she could help transfer me to a practice in town if I stay here. Or if I move, she’ll ask her contacts to help find me a place.”

“You’re thinking of staying?” Jo asks.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Dean shrugs.

Sam expands on Jo’s thought, “We just assumed you’d try to move closer to Cas.”

“You’re okay with that?” Dean doesn’t look up, worried about their answer.

“Of course we are.” Jo nudges Dean’s shoulder playfully. “Bonding time over, I’m hungry. Aren’t you hungry?”

Sam and Dean smirk at each other. After living apart for three years, Dean is happy to have his family back. He’s torn on where to look for a job, but instead of deciding now his mind happily turns to cooking.

“Burgers?” Dean suggests.

 

**

 

The stream of texts between Dean and Cas never stop. The only time they’re out of contact is when they’re asleep, and typically there’s a text from one waiting for the other in the morning. They talk about what they’re doing, or _wish_ they could be doing. Cas asks about Sam, Jo and Charlie. Dean asks Cas how he’s surviving. At night they call each other and watch movies. More than once someone has fallen asleep with the phone to their ear.

When Dean starts researching school districts, he finds it difficult to be optimistic. He shouldn’t have a problem finding a position in the general area of the college, it’s a huge city and they’ve been advertising teacher shortages. But when Dean looks up schools near Cas, he’s a little heartbroken. There are more school districts, but they’re smaller with less movement. It’s not impossible, but it’s not as probable. Feeling worthless, Dean finally closes his laptop lid when he sees quite a few positions requiring a master’s degree.

 _My mother seems to think I’m lazy._ Cas makes Dean’s phone cherp.

The things Cas’s mother does or how he feels because of something she said has become a perpetual discussion. It worries Dean. He’d like to tell Cas to get out of there, but it’s not his decision to make.

 _that’s crazy!!_ Dean’s reply is simple, but it gets the point across.

With Jo and Sam away at a party Dean would normally just call Cas, but his own anxiety is taking over. It’s all so overwhelming. School, jobs, finding a place to live. Dean looked through apartment ads for places around Cas’s hometown. It’s much more expensive than Dean could handle on his own. Plus he doesn’t have a master’s degree to get one of those jobs. And he hasn’t even done student teaching. What if he’s terrible at it? What if no one hires him? What if Cas decides that Dean’s anxieties are too much work?

Dean leaves the phone on his bed next to the laptop and goes to splash some water on his face. While in the restroom, he pauses staring at the sink. He wants to scald his hands or dig his fingernails into his arms or palms, _something_ to express the nervous energy. His mind has an idea of another way, but using his nails has been a compromise he’s tried to stick to. Swallowing, Dean decides he should probably mention this when he meets with the counselor. He’s never told anyone that, in his mind anyway, the OCD can get more violent. 

Next to the sink a single prescription bottle sits ignored. Dean has not wanted to look at the thing since he got it, but feeling lost he takes it into the bedroom and calls Cas.

”Hey!” Cas’s warm voice makes tears well in Dean’s eyes. ”Didn’t think I’d hear from you until later. What’s up? Did you exercise this morning?”

Dean grips the medicine and lays down on his bed.”Yeah, still too freakin cold to go running, so I used Sam’s weights.” While setting down the bottle he adds quietly, “Felt good then.” 

”Dean?” The worry in Cas’s voice fills Dean with guilt.

He sucks in a shaky breath before explaining, “Jo ‘n Sam went to Victor’s for a holiday party. I couldn’t face seeing Victor. He’s nice to them, but the way Iㄧ I just couldn’t deal with him now.” Dean covers his face, “And somethings are harder for me to stop myself from doing when I’m alone.”

Castiel’s voice is small. ”Are you thinking about hurting yourself baby?”

Dean can’t answer. He just makes a strangled noise as hot tears stream down his cheeks. They sit on the phone listening to each other’s breath for a few minutes until Dean attempts to use his voice again.

“How many medications have you tried since we’ve been together?” Dean’s brittle voice whispers.

“Two.” Cas clears his throat, ”Have you tried yours yet?”

Dean just whimpers, not wanting to reply.

”Baby, she gave those to you for a reason. It’s okay to take them. Doesn’t the prescription say ‘as needed?’ You’ll never know if they help if you don’t take them.”

“Okay.” Dean whispers as he reaches for the bottle. He swallows a tiny white pill, and concentrates on breathing for a moment before asking, “What if it makes things worse? Like it did for you.”

”I’m not going anywhere. Wanna watch a movie?”

“Isn’t it too early? Won’t your parents want you to have dinner with them?” Dean breathes with one hand covering his eyes.

”I’m not going anywhere.”

 

**

 

Two weeks into Winter Break, Dean starts to formulate an idea. He doesn’t tell Cas, not sure if it’s because he doesn’t want to be rejected or if he wants it to be a surprise. Either way his lips are sealedㄧ to Cas anyway. He talks to Jo and Sam then officially asks Ellen and Bobby.

“My mom says to just put whatever you don’t want to use in the garage.” Jo pokes her head into Dean’s room while he’s reading.

“Really?” Dean grins, “Thanks!”

The project is a useful distraction for not having Cas around at Christmas. Dean moves unwanted furniture and buys supplies with gusto.

“Dude, it’s Christmas Eve.” Sam grouces when Dean wakes him up by moving large pieces of particleboard up stairs. “Give it a rest.”

“It’s Christmas Eve _morning_ Sammy. I’ll stop when Ellen and Bobby get here.”

Sam grumbles as he leaves Dean alone.

“I made coffee!” Dean calls out to his brother in consolation.

As Dean arranges the particleboard his phone startles him. He turned the sound and vibration intensity up higher so he’d hear Cas’s texts while working. It’s successful.

_Can you pick me up at the airport in 3hrs?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said last chapter, sometimes OCD can manifest as self-harm especially when guilt is involved. I do this. I also plan out other ways to hurt myself. So far I haven't because I know it'd really upset my partner, along with some other reasons. But the thoughts are there. Often.
> 
> I also wanted to mention that although I've tried a few medications, I don't like how I feel medicated (though that might have to do with not finding the right one). So, this "as needed" medicine I have now I've used 2x almost a year apart because I'm afraid of getting addicted to it. I've been told horror stories. 
> 
> I realize this is kind of dumb to say. You don't really _need_ this information for the fic, but it's close to my heart so I thought I'd share. I'm sorry I'm not more creative, but telling a story about OCD and depression is close to my heart and I needed to get it "out there." I'm also sorry if you are a person who struggles with self-harm. My stupid OCD things by no means compare and this story is not meant to diminish your struggle. Thanks for listening. I believe in you.  <3
> 
> Thanks for all of you.
> 
> \------
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://4lov3.tumblr.com)


	11. Miss You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean reveals his surprise.

Dean immediately tries to call Cas after receiving the text, but he’s sent to voicemail. A moment later Dean gets another text from Cas.

_i’m ok, can’t talk. cu in 3hrs?_

Dean stares at the text, it’s so un-Cas-like. No capitals and the words aren’t spelled out properly. It makes Dean’s throat start to close. He replies saying that he’ll be there.

 _love u_ , Cas responds.

Dean’s heart pounds. He has three hours for a project he thought he had three weeks to finish. No not three hours, less than. He needs to be _at_ the airport in three hours. Christmas Eve, he can do this.

Dean walks downstairs with a frantic call, “Jooooo?”

“Yeah?” Jo leans over the couch as Dean enters into the livingroom.

“When are your parents coming into town?”

“About noon?” Dean is frozen in thought, Jo continues. “Why?”

“I gotta go pick up Cas at the airport in three hours.” Dean nervously runs fingers through his hair.

“So about noon?” Jo smirks.

“Yeah.”

“Everything okay?” 

Dean feels Jo’s eyes on him and is pressured to respond. “I think so.” 

“You having second thoughts about your top secret project?” Jo asks, not unkindly.

“No. Just thought I’d have more time.” Not only to finish, Dean hoped he’d had time to figure out how to introduce the idea to Cas. “Your parents are okay with it still, right?” Dean’s stomach clenches.

“Dude you talked to them about it three times already.” Jo rolls her eyes with a smile. “Plus Bobby said he’d rather stay at a hotel. That way he can walk around in his skivvies.”

Dean storts. “Okay then.”

 

**

 

Dean clenches his fingers around the steering wheel as he waits at the passenger pick-up curb. It’s windy and starting to snow so he hopes he can catch Cas before a security guard tells him to go to short term parking. The airport is nearly empty with only four other cars waiting. Dean saw a security guard just as he pulled up but the car kept going, slowly circling the parking garage and pick-up lanes.

When Dean spots Cas and his duffle bag, his heart jumps. Cas walks with his head down, not seeing Dean or at least not showing any recognition that Dean’s there. 

_No going back now,_ Dean thinks as he swallows and opens the car door. Cas looks up and a warm smile spreads across his face. With hand over hand (because Dean wants to help but doesn’t really need to) they jointly toss the duffle bag into the back seat. 

As soon as the rear passenger door closes, Cas’s arms encompass Dean. “Missed you.” He mumbles into Dean’s thick green coat.

Dean tightens his grip on Cas’s wool jacket, “Missed you too. But, uh I’m freezing my ass off.” Dean realizes not sure where they’re going. He had assumed back to the house and to the big reveal. “Where to Cas?”

“I need to get back to my apartment,” Cas nuzzles Dean’s face while Dean tries not to feel bad that his surprise is going to have to wait.

 

**

 

Without taking his jacket off, Cas takes a cardboard box out of the tiny closet and starts shoving things into it. “I don’t know where I’ll go. I mean,” he looks up at Dean realizing his situation, “I guess I’m homeless.”

Dean opens his mouth to cut in, but Cas keeps on talking quickly and buzzing around the apartment as if any moment someone is going to come kick him out. Apparently that’s a possibility since his mother owns the complex along with another one in town. Dean is grateful to hear he hadn’t been renting from her when he lived in the studio.

“I just couldn’t do it anymore. Like you said I’m not Anna.” Cas tosses his paints into a backpack then using a roll of packing tape starts to close up a set of plastic drawers he’s been using to hold his clothes. “I couldn’t handle my mother calling me lazy anymore. I’m not lazy!” Cas gestures around to all the paintings. Then to himself he wonders, “Where am I going to put all of these?” Before Dean can offer a solution, Cas begins again tossing his boots and a thin trench coat into the open box. “It was when you texted me about your therapy appointment, I’m really glad that went well by the way, but it was then I realized I needed to get out. I just kept coming back to our first date, when you said, ‘you gotta do what you love.’” Cas returns to his painting supplies and stuffs his brushes into an outer pocket of the backpack. “My mother just wants me to be medicated. She doesn’t care about therapy, she doesn’t think I have a problem— never has. She told me that I just need to change my attitude and I’ll be fine. That’s when it clicked. I saw your text and my tattoo and I had to leave.” Cas looks around the room, then darts into the bathroom with large ziplock bag. “She’s angry, well she’s an angry person but that’s not the point,” Dean hears Cas toss medication bottles into the bag with pills rattling against the plastic containers. “The point is, she thinks I’m the one that should have died.” Cas leans against the restroom door.

“God, Cas.” Dean croaks.

Cas shrugs, “I’m just thankful my last semester is already paid for. There’s no way my paycheck would cover that.”

They fall silent. Cas looks around at his things. Everything, save the paintings, fits into a small set of plastic drawers, a cardboard box and a backpack.

Dean has been trying to get the nerve to ask Cas back to his place the whole time, but the words catch in his throat.

Cas does it for him. “Can I come to your place for awhile? I mean it doesn’t have to be permanent or anything, just until I find a place. Would it be okay if I put my stuff in the garage?”

“Of course,” Dean’s stomach flips thinking about what awaits them at the house. He looks around the apartment, “This is it? You don’t want to take the futon or any kitchen stuff?”

“Nope. The place was ‘furnished.’ If you can call it that.” 

They’re able to get the plastic drawers into the backseat of the Impala. The box goes on top of Cas’s dufflebag, paintings in the trunk and the backpack sits by Cas’s feet. Dean’s silent on the drive getting more nervous with each block. He sees Cas look over at him from time to time, but he’s so nervous Dean can’t manage a look back.

When they get to the house Cas looks at his feet mumbling, “Thanks. It won’t be forever.” Before Dean can respond, Cas turns and steps out of the car.

Dean rushes around to Cas’s side taking his hand and quickly blurting, “I gotta show you something.” Dean's breath is shallow as he pulls Cas inside. 

The house is warm and inviting, with a small tree in the living room. Christmas lights twinkle as Sam and Jo watch Doctor Who on Netflix. _Ninth Doctor, good choice_ , Dean thinks as he hears characters talking.

“Hey Cas,” Sam calls relaxed from the couch.

Dean doesn’t look over to his housemates as he tugs Cas, still wearing his long wool coat, up stairs. Pausing in front of the master bedroom door Dean gulps in air, but it does nothing to calm his nerves. After opening the door Dean drops Cas’s hand in favor of pulling on the sleeves of his own jacket as Cas surveys the room. The bed is missing. There’s a loveseat in the corner with plywood covering most of the floor. Plastic drop cloths are folded in the corner on top of Dean’s empty bookcase.

“You don’t have to stay here, but I thought,” Dean begins badly. Why hadn’t he planned this better? “I mean, in case you needed a place, um, after graduation to make art.” Dean huffs angry at his lack of articulation. “The couch folds out into a bed. So if you need your space, you don’t have to be with me downstairs, but I’d like you to be, but I mean, if it’s one of the bad days or something. I moved Bobby and Ellen’s bed to the garage so you’d have room to paint. We can get you a better shelf, my crappy bookcase isn’t much but—”

Cas cuts Dean off with a kiss.

Dean whispers against Cas’s lips, “So you’ll stay?”

“I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

 

**

 

The crowd outside of the gallery hums as Cas clutches Dean’s hand. They walked around the BFA exhibit earlier and now wait at one of the cocktail tables in the lobby.

“You stuff is gorgeous, relax.” Dean kisses Cas’s cheek.

Bobby and Ellen join Cas and Dean standing at the tall table. 

“Great show boy,” Bobby nods to Cas.

“Your teapots are beautiful.” Ellen smiles.

“Thank you, I hope they’re good enough.” Cas squeezes Dean’s hand.

“Dude, of course. They’re better than ‘good enough.’” Dean rubs his shoulder into Cas’s arm. “That pie pan you made me the _only_ one I use.”

“You’re just biased.”

“Maybe a little,” Dean smirks. “No, man. It’s the best one I’ve ever had. Best size, weight, angle of the sides— everything.”

“Thank you.” Cas breathes.

Sam and Jo join the group with grins.

“Your stuff looks great!” Sam beams with a friendly pat on Cas’s shoulder.

“Thanks Sam.” Cas self-consciously dips his head.

“River Pizza?” Jo looks around to the group. “Victor is going to meet us over there in about a half hour.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yay. Okay.”

“Be nice Dean. Victor’s trying. He said you guys look cute together when I sent him a photo yesterday.” Jo laughs.

“What photo? Why do you do this?” Dean whines. “I seriously doubt he said the word cute.”

Jo raises her eyebrows, “I think he’s sorry he missed his chance.”

Dean squints his eyes, “What? No. Really?” Lowering his voice Dean continues, “He had a stupid way of showing it.”

Cas pats Dean’s arm and Dean turns to nuzzle into the crook of Cas’s neck.

“Balthazar said he’s on his way too. See you over there?” Jo asks as Dean hides his face. Dean waves blindly, confirming their plans. When he looks up he’s alone with Cas at the table.

“I can always get a job at craft store, good discounts.” Cas worries.

“Just wait and see.”

“Castiel?” A middle-aged woman with short dark hair walks up to them.

“Yes.” Cas nods.

“I”m Jody, the owner of Home Arts Gallery, we spoke on the phone.” 

“Oh, yes.” Cas shakes her hand, “It’s good to meet you.”

“You’re exactly what I’m looking to add to my business. There’s a small studio space for ceramics and I have a contract with the university to use their kilns for larger pieces. I hear you paint as well?”

“That’s correct.”

“Fantastic.” Jody gestures toward the BFA show, “Bring some of your teapots by tomorrow morning. You can look over your contract then and we can start showing those pieces.”

“I”m afraid my teapots have already sold.”

“Wow. Congratulations. How about some paintings then? And you can start work in the ceramics studio too if you’d like.”

“Yes, I would. That sounds wonderful.” Cas’s grin is audible. 

 

**

 

Dean adjusts his blue tie as he walks up to the front door with a folder and a stack of papers. He turns the key with shaky hands. He’s in shock, he was so sure he blew it. With his heart pounding, he steps inside to tell Cas the news. Sam and Jo are out swimming in the river and Dean thinks about joining them for some summer fun soon after he and Cas talk.

There’s a lump on the living room couch that Dean discerns as Cas. Maybe they can go swimming tomorrow.

Placing a gentle hand on the figure under the blanket, Dean kneels down on the floor dropping his papers to the side. “Hey.” His heart squeezes in love and anxiety.

The lump shifts and Cas pulls the blanket back from over his face. “How’d the interview go?”

Dean’s lips twitch then split into a grin. “I’m a fourth grade teacher.”

“Congratulations.” Cas pulls Dean down by his tie and their lips connect softly. 

When Dean sits up he runs his fingers through Cas’s hair. “Thanks man.”

They look at each other in comfortable silence. Dean smiles again and leans down to burry his face in the crook of Cas’s neck.

“Thank you.” Cas whispers.

“I didn’t do a thing.” Dean slides his arms around Cas.

“You believe in me, even on the bad days.”

“You do the same for me. And of course— you’re my angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a little license with the BFA show and gallery, though it's based on my university and galleries there.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! <333
> 
> I've been thinking about adding some timestamps. So, there could be more at a later date. <3  
> \------
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://4lov3.tumblr.com)


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